more than once, your sonar

It was the way the purpose beat, intentional and without cease.

Time has passed, but I am still at the edge: of the echo, of myself, and a few words.

I heard something about you, but I know the difference between the Chinese and whispers and I learned once, beside a tree, about how things travel and change, yet it’s strange; I still make the same mistakes.

And I let you stay.

You creep in.

Do you dream about me?

There are places we meet and others we shift, with a glance into each others eyes, as we drift.

It is my hearts incubus.

And it’s nothing to trust.

If I had the chance, if ever it were enough, I would expel your name from me, out across that great canyon of lust and its resounding sky.

I would wait for its return.

Yes, just like it does in dreams.

Though I know. The glimpse of what was, could be and imagined, is just like that reverberating wave, rolling in my heart like tsunami.

And I run.

Parts of me remain: the acoustic of that time.

Repeating, with a depth so beautiful, yet best not described.

I will be heard.

More than once,
your sonar.

© ryan

more than once, your sonar

PJ Ryan

Melbourne, Australia

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