Elena

Your blown kisses, reach my maritime coast, a light from Cape Mission, across the weather zones, they dance on water, turn it blue with love, nothing like their lilt, so light they float, across our continental drift, they help us know, what stands foremost, and what is only loaned, on a wind lashed cliff, looking down at fishing boats, I touch your lips, sometimes the most cynical, hug their bones, even those most critical give thanks to God