We were searching for something
That would last forever and carry us with it
But instead we found each other, and each minute impermanent
Became endless in its intimacy,
its impossible inward spiral,
the infinity of small places,
the endless and near meaningless
possibility between 1 and 0
between nothing and something
half truths uncertainties
and romances untold, but lived
between days
and between years
i find you in gaps between one thing
and another
there is a hollow near arcata
where you can step from the top of a cliff
into the upper limbs
of an ancient tree
where you can climb down the branches like a twisted ladder
to the brambles, through a tunnel of thorns and harsh shadows
a staircase of roots and sand in the cool dimness, releasing you through an opening easily missed from its other side into the vast grays of a clouded july evening
and the forbidden beach, the fence in the distance,
the groundswell, only animal tracks in the sand, deer prints, catamount,
and our own, starfish stranded
in shallow pools until the tide comes in,
still water in curls between the undulations shaved down by the wind
burying and in turn uncovering driftwood, filling it's holes with sand and shadows, crabs and the sight of a deer in the distance, the shore sparse but alive
take this light and cast it over the whole of time
we will be beautiful forever, the world
waits for this hour when anything could happen
and no one would notice. Lost coast, north,
I am holding myself together like sand.
when you look at me
i come apart in my own hands,
sieve into the whole of it,
and pass perfectly through the fence.
Anatomy Anatomy
Whale Blue Review

Park that car
Drop that phone
Sleep on the floor
Dream about me
the imagery here is gorgeous. the whole motion of the phrases when describing the cliff and the trees and the coast is magical.

i think you could trim the fat on the bookends. not that there aren't great phrases, but it feels jumbled. of course, the description of the cliffs and trees is jumbled but it reads like the memory of a place from years ago - jumbled by the effects of time and decay, whereas the other parts feel jumbled more out of lack of attention, sort of autistic in a way (and i say that to with no offense or meanness).

still, the last lines are amazing. you ended on nearly the perfect note, something that it seldom achieved. thanks for posting this great work.
The ending nails it for me. I don't like barriers.

Tiny gaps. Moments. I think maybe lines 4 - 15 or so where you're describing these things goes on a bit too long. The poem itself sprawls out in description after the climb down the tree, which I like in a way because that must be like the experience itself but it could be imposing in some of the longest lines.

Hope you're doing well. The title reminded me of that Youth Pictures of Florence Henderson title "I think E.T. is Involved in my Family."