Before I slept, I saw the nebula
of your ashes swirl in the sea
and smash into stars on the sand.
For hours after I hunted the shore
listening for your voice in shells
that went mute in my hand.
When I begged the sea for your face
the fog came in.
Now you surface in my sleep.
Hoarse cries sound in the bay of my ear.
You chip my eyes with rock
and lids split open like mussel shells.
I see you floating on the swell
and spill, crowned with kelp
and sleek as the sea itself
you preen and dive and glide.
I am honored beyond song.