For the spell that your resonant love is mine,

Although I am not worthy of it

The moment before lightning hits the sea,

Revealing calm and recollection, 

Drawing closer and winding around, 

Obsessive and addicted, leaves in the wind

An uncontrollable echoing flutter, 

The smallest movement that shifts the heartland,

For ages I have thought about this place

Backing out to the tempest, home.  


Cognations drift towards you in the night time,

Those night times spent getting lost,

You got rid of all the noise; a gentle stealing mist,

Where the surface meets, rough hands, floating lightly,

Interruptions and wavers grow as storm waves,

Left immobile to wonder about mistakes not made,

Dreams concerning memories to be re-lived,

Sinking into the deep between,

Keeping from where desire rings, 

Ivy kills to what it clings.




By Molly Sellers