Reckon | The Whole World's a Stage

stare-at-walls:

Sandcastles

Barefoot early, we fancy
memory
for carrying scratches on our backs.
Kissmarks remind you
how to live inside these fantasies with seaweeds
how early those tear drops
secrete more than the sea.


After summer,
you reminisced how we stood above the lighthouse.
But summers are now missing,
and at night, the brightest lampshades
boast with radiance
even the clouds dyed
so robust
they might explode.


Your body against the invasion of tides
became brave sandcastles, parched,
the white sand baptized as our fortress.


(poem rearranged from Rocelyn San Pedro’s Memory of summer, by Jacob Dominguez)

(from my paper journal)