Unexpectations

I taste a saltiness, a sea
when I bite down: a bit of sin,
nothing to be too concerned
about. A slow drink of whiskey;
& a shot of something harder
to put words to. It was karma
perhaps, an instantaneous
revelation, a manifestation of some
dharma, a proportion or portion
of organic feeling, unseeing, that
the English bard was right: all my soul,
& all my every part was waiting for this
for years. Salt on skin & water in
hand & for this sin too, there is no remedy,
no distraction that spans the width & height
of it all. How could it? Winter isn't even long
enough & the summer sun too bright, for
the light that comes shining from beneath
you, within you, breaking free from you
is so much more subtle; I can't breathe.
Barely waking, a very dark spacious
landscape making for a hot glimmer;
& a road where I can I see
you walking. I do see it now,
the ocean. I even wave.