feral whirlwind phantom

You are the dust

Of ancient, buried, cities
You take the form
Of a feral whirlwind

You traverse through dormant valleys of desolation
Where cities lie almost by mistake

And in these towns where boys kept near to their Mother’s womb
Lived a kindred soul to the feral wind

Both knowing, their fate lied not
On familiar shores of once seas
Nor in the external vastness of the sky
Ignorant to bounds, their love pulsed

And so the whirlwind whips
Through humble adobes
Seeking signs
Of an ever-present man-boy

She longs for a footprint she can preserve
Instead of diminishing
Or a scent of his lock frozen into the Joshua trees

Or at most,
A shifted shape
Winged and rising towards her
Abandoning the present with wings amok
Preserving some past with what else but his love

He sputters and flaps
Floundering for the eye in the gust’s open palm
The figure that cannot see, yet always knows
Her innate force is blind but embracing
So he wavers
And his feathered form careens around her
About
Above &
Below
Though, not within

Theirs is static
And impossible

A pull too plain to ever withdraw
So they’ll exhaust each meridian
Until they’ve tried them all
They’ll exhaust each continuum
The wind and winged fall