The pages of my favorite books
all feel like the grains in our sidewalk
where I memorized Arcturus, Vega,
Altair, and the pattern of your freckles.
The ocean slides between my toes
soft as the waves of your sheets
quiet, endless, home.
Even the sun blazes relentlessly
with the memory of your eyes.

But these winds smell like rebirth
and the stars are shifting
steadily, ever farther away.
The green of Neptune is a beacon
pointing me towards fresher memories,
grander joy. I sail for them
by the constellations
you first taught me.

Though the sun scalds,
and the salt burns
the seas are intoxicating;
and the future has promised me
a new sky, that is
my own to chart.