the memory of a feeling
like a secreted, smooth, skipping
stone in a pocket I had
almost forgotten I carried it
wherever I went
staring at our reflections in windows
facing the harbor
beyond, the great expanse of time
it seemed right, even then
that my outline was growing more solid
yours just seeming to fade
I stood peaceful
gazing out of the window
the corners of my eyes filled with magical stars
I almost didn’t
notice the smudge of orange and red
on the white marble floor
told myself it was nothing
at night, I am tired so
it’s the hardest to see
stooping down closer
the shape became a curled-up coy fish
out of water
the museum’s glass windows like an aquarium
but in reverse
the fish, at least
on the wrong side of things
Maybe, it was me
on the wrong side of things
encased in a building of other people’s expressions
memories, hopes, joys, and pains
laid out on canvases
stretched out to for others
to be ogled, critiqued
I scooped up the coy fish
brought her outside the door to the open air
the night wet
the darkness tingly
sliding my hand past the boardwalk ropes
I let her go
delighted in her orange and red beauty
swimming into the deep
below...
free
