Phenomenology Study / Elegy for Island Love

The banana plant that thrashed outside my lover’s window

seemed unreal. Our hours together felt like a dream:

how he nudged a spider up the shower tile

with a cupped hand, unwilling to hurt anything

alive. How unlike me, watching the slow turn

of the ceiling fan, wondering whose stanza I’d slipped

into. Once, I could see how badly he wanted me

to say something honest. My constellation of facts

could not parry his grief. The tide is low / The limes

are ripe / I saw a cauliflower jellyfish today. The sea

we shared, a surface I could not bear to speak past.

I used my words. I wove a net of truth and cast it

between us. And when it rained, I listened

to the banana leaves, believing I could hear their color.