Whispers In The Dark

I washed up in the waves of your memory,
dressed in last night’s lovely dream,
hair soaked in salt water and the solemn recollection of the last time your eyes encompassed me.
I only arrive when you ask.
Don’t blame me for my presence,
when you presented yourself to the ocean and pleaded for her to pull me back into your orbit.
I am nothing but a whisper in the dark,
but when you bring me here,
you behave as if I am the moon and stars themselves,
bowing low on the floor,
writing sonnets in the sand with shaking fingertips,
and I stand in cautious confusion,
because you’re always so sweet,
for a second or two,
before the paradise of love falls away,
like a sandcastle doing battle with the might of the sea.