How do I be? That tanzanite light breaking through fissures at the base of mountains before the sun drapes over darkness, how do I be? The fleet of boats cruising on waters of simple words, like a moonlight so impalpable yet believable, steady paced and offering ripples of hope to your shadows in densely salty waters. I want to be the wall surrounding your being, glittering like a cluster of gems, eluding keen passersby approaching the gates of your soul, so they can never know your aloneness, so it stays mine to breach. Tell me to be the eyes of your past lovers enriched with memories of exotic sights locked in theirs. I am tired of being without your favour, a scribble on stones, a misdirected mirage. Conjure me in hours of anxiousness to ease your wandering mind that creases into melancholic folds of anguish. Plough deep rows of fear and plant fire. Make me the stem from which a carnation blooms petals of desire. How do I be, the carnal secrets escaping your lips? Spoken like golden twilight, engorging deflection over an indigo-flushed ocean, spumes of entanglements locking with the shore. First published in Diaphanous Micro