You were a one-sided
coin, like grief
of the dour moon―
righting the wrong.
Maybe I was not able
to recall your beautiful face.
O, Miranda send your
smiles some time, as the
tempest was reading for a fall.
A salt mountain
will break to teach you fidelity.
You may run, may not run.
One day nemesis will come
to ask your name.
On trampled leaves of time
a huge pachyderm roams,
to find its master.
I will wait in my half-cave.