Glacier and Another Time

I tried to ride the night rocks,
just off the crowned shore road. They
hunch deep into the sand,
let down by a carriage of glacier
against the summer beach.
That giant came and went,
dropping its fatigue,
melting.

I sat on those rocks once,
my knees bleeding-
a cold tingle storming my spine to re-route the pain into passionate memory.
My knees bled, yes, but under Gem's weight.
it was the kiss
that halted everything but her
prying fingers at my mouth.
We rode that carriage,
It set us down.

I can't see the night rocks now—I hunch, I squint-
they are disappeared.

A faint dragging sound, I hear,
slow grinding under some weight,
the moon rubs the sand smooth so
my knees don't bleed.