You were a one-sided
coin, like grief
of the dour moon―
righting the wrong.

Maybe I was not able
to recall your beautiful face.
O, Miranda send your
smiles some time, as the
tempest was reading for a fall.

A salt mountain
will break to teach you fidelity.
You may run, may not run.
One day nemesis will come
to ask your name.

On trampled leaves of time
a huge pachyderm roams,
to find its master.

I will wait in my half-cave.