the fatal nature of seasickness

 does the black moon help you reconnect with your closest self?
have you closed your eyes lately,  and felt
a never-ending coming and going
of seasickness
that can only be explained
by the fast movement of the seasons?
I’ve tried to explain it to myself:
i’ve meditated in place
sitting down
down on my chest
legs out front
on my feet:
      nothing.
there’s no stopping what’s near me
if i open my eyes big enough, maybe i’ll catch a glimpse
familiar sweetness, a mossy rock in my childhood heart
even the winds of trade made of salt and bones
will feel like new momentum 
renewed enthusiasm
enough to keep me going 
for like, what, 20 more years?

the corner shop

 do you think as you get older
and you start to see the signs of wear and tear
you will forget about me?
i have not seen you in years yet I dream,
I dream of a day where we accidentally lock eyes,
you see my face resurface in your old memories
just like you thought you had forgotten.
i have sat by the window at the bar
that I first visited when I was looking for you,
hoping that in any of these faces
I see myself and I see you.
how do you look? did you lose weight? 
did you lose your hair?
it would be so easy to find out,
I can always come back.
it's been ten years waiting for a moment to happen,
and i think i could wait ten more.
if the wind reaches you,
i also hope my words come with,
that they whisper in your dreams
that I was once someone,
not just a face.
the day i conquer that distance
i know something will die:
you'll never just have the time to bump into me,
take the time to sit down,
grab a coffee,
listen.
maybe we'll look at each other and wave,
briefly my hearing will stop,
i will run out of breath,
and look stupid.
nobody has your face,
your demeanor
or your voice.
nobody looks like you,
i'm not expecting them to do so. 
years will come and go,
I'll be sitting here,
never forgetting,
always understanding
what separates me and you
is a dimension of time.
if I'm lucky,
I'll see you in my next life.