a wedding of particular peculiarities

waveforms on a wave, flying through the air,
curling beneath the sand, our legs drenched,
filled to the brim with starstones, dying of crystals,
we are the memory of time, slip-drunken and fled,
silenced by the moment in which we fail to understand
the intricacies of the inlaid moon, with her silver lines
and mysterious shadows; seconds pass in storms,
flush with red and violent and blue-green leaves,
while the season comes to an end, and we find ourselves
at the gate, where a pale-faced woman greets us,
asks us our name, and hands us two iron bars.