Lavender Sands

Lavender sands and cyan pools
mark the border between this world
and another.

A sky of unmapped stars,
forgotten languages of this world
and others.

I can see her even from here:
 copper hair that pools around her,
 sea-glass eyes that watch the horizon,
 waiting for a sun that never rises.

She tucks a knee against her breast and sings—  —a long, meandering melody.

If I crossed that pink fog
to cup the crescent of her silver cheek,
I would be gone—

My body would crumble to dust.
My memories would fade
like mist in the sun.

I come often to this liminal space,
to these lavender sands
and cyan pools.

I come often
to listen to her song.  Sometimes,
  I can make out a word or two,

      even from here.