The Talk Beside the Black Water

I saw you dancing
In the fire-light of the pink sunset
and I wanted to take a picture,
but the camera sat wasted
On the kitchen counter
So this morning I am forced to
Paint it with the inaccurate and
Fumbling paintbrush of words.

The English language fondles
but cannot deliver
    Your wild hair in terrifying,
Lovely wisps
     And chubby arms stretching
Across black waves
Not knowing, really, how sea
goes on forever
And digging dangerously
in close sand as the
tide came in
    I beckoned you
sit next to me
and you duge a hole to see if
water might
really fill it by
morning
   And we talked long
talks and I kissed
the place in your forehead
that dents delightfully with soft
and I watch your
New long eyelashes
flutter quick and
graceful while you
grip fresh knowledge
and hold on to fire,
taste salt-laden wind
and linger by black water
   Because no one has
   Made you fear It.