wishing on feathered stars

an original poem

by Alexandra Adler / Garnet & Black

the wind, brash against my ears, is filled with 

        a hundred collapsing moments in one breath

sometimes, i wonder if standing at the brink of water nipping 

my ankles like razors 

will teach me not to get cut;

if submerging my arms, my toes, the bridge of my nose

will suffocate the voices:

        not enough. not the man. not the time. not the one.

if lacing my limbs with the tide taught me how to swim,

will watching the sea grasp at the shore,

       fingers slipping through its ghost

remind me that no matter how many times 

i come back to him, i will only be pulled away?

or will the restless beat in my chest,

seeing through a rose-colored lens

        fancying itself a detective of crimes to the heart,

find the stubborn swells dripping with possibility

in each sand-soaked promise to come again?

feathered stars dot a snow-covered sky and i wonder 

if i stare for long enough, will i learn how to fly?

wouldn’t that be a lovely thing–

        to finally lose sight of the shore 

in search of a horizon line better than the one 

we have carved between us? 

in search of a place where the waves make no promises,

unfolding only onto themselves?