lost at the intersection
of fantasy and memory,
this liminal location
a ghost realm
where the walls ooze
viscous
drippings
where and when
and what if we are
stranded here?
this world, such that
it is, not without its pleasures
the simple, the guilty
delights arise and recede
waves on a hidden beach
tidal flotsam
piles in patterns
castles and kelp
so what if we are
stranded here?
gazing from the tower,
sanctuary and prison
together in our loneliness
shadows of prior plagues
squares on quilts stitched
by mourners,
mothers, lovers
living and dying
each moment we are
stranded here