The Beach

To my wife

The mask trembles
the fire ignites
through dusk and moon,
through fire and earth.

Across the beach,
your eyes catch mine
a quiet spark carried by breath.

You smile; I smile.
I move; you stay.
You blush; I speak.
And somewhere,
between the words we never say,
a whole sky bends to meet us.

The air hums soft around your name,
as if the night remembers
what it means to stay,
and the moon, our oldest witness,
leans closer to listen.