1.
Black waves break in full
moonlight, making
liquid silver slip
across the strand. We
step back from the froth,
stand in the roar
of surf, arms wrapped
around each other
while all the fires
on the beach burn low
and I dig my toes
into icy sand.
2.
Graceful branches brush
the sky. It looks like
all the other redwoods
until we step inside
the trunk, look up
at a blue spot far above
and kiss, touching
the charred remains
of the heartwood,
knowing at least
what it means
to be empty inside.
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