Salt-slick Words

In the water of the sea, green with motion sickness,
Following the thoughts of rowing men
To wherever they may lead their sentences,
I feel your touch.

In the death throes of the day, when the night creeps forward,
Slowly past the mountains, broken down
In tears; tears for what could have been better,
Then you are here.

In the paltry photographs, dirt tears in a glass;
Somewhere beneath my falsified laugh,
As life goes on, though I don't know where it went,
I see your smile.

In the trash bag tumbleweeds blowing past the jaded;
The blind who have learned their own patented sight,
A picture clearer than the leaf-laden autumn wind,
You voice whispers.

In the salt-slick words that you want to take back but can't;
The words you don't know fell on deaf ears,
(Though I can reassure you that they did so)
A shadow, gone.

In the world-weary sighs of eternal travelers,
You know the ones with their dusty feet.
They cry out for justice that can never come.
You shine through them.

In the way that I still expect to see you coming,
With your smile that melts away the fog--
Or did, at least. You won't shine for me again;
Your light disappeared.

But what I miss most is your respect.