the cross on the cliff side in the rain

version since my thingy is glitching and won't let me add spaces ToT

make your way to the cliff side where the crumbling stone
is devout
to the hungry waters below.
drop the wilting anemones you picked from
the garden out back by the patio
at the foot of the cross.
unmarked.
no name,
sit on a slab of granite and stay
for a while.

please, pay no mind to the dreary weather.
just tug on your raincoat and zip up tight.
lean against the gnarled wood that’s been moth-eaten by time
and sea salt.
if you stay still enough, you can pretend it’s him,
breath lingering on your cheek.
if you close your eyes and make a wish,
maybe you will rise from
this strange dream.

and what a strange dream this has been,
for you had dreamt that he,
your darling,
lover,
had embraced the unforgiving ocean
not some time ago.

curious.
he was never afraid of water.
sticky summer days spent
tucked into black watery depths
while the world was none the wiser.
because of course, no one had to know.
mothers could not be told for fear of remaining whole,
the old school group still righteous and blind.
months spent
swimming after something too
fierce and fleeting
to be left well alone.

sometimes, when the light lingered upon his face
just right,
tears tracked his porcelain skin,
etching lines into his cheeks.
but sooner or later the light would fade,
and his skin
would knit itself back together again.

always cold.
hands freezing to the touch
like he himself was made of ice.
eyes scathing and sharp, cigarette smoke frozen over.
but underneath that ice, he was sweet
and subtle and oh-so-beautiful, but
ever so cold.
and in between breaths, you had wondered
if you could soften the chill within
his marrow.
but you are not warm,
and neither is the damp, rotting wood you curl up against.
the anemones are soaked and drooping.
you toss them carelessly to the wind.

so
sit until the ocean has had a taste of the sun, and you
no longer know
where the cross starts and you begin.
sit
silent
because you are afraid that
if you speak
he will not answer.

if one of your old school friends comes to get you
cling to the sorry wooden excuse for your lover
and refuse to go.
beg, plead, threaten and fight and bare your teeth.
because
he wouldn’t want to be alone,
with nothing but
the salt spray and the occasional weary sea bird.
he was alone for so long.
don’t leave.

stand.
discard the raincoat, throw it to the waves if you must.
so when the water pricks your skin
and seeps into your blood like an antidote,
you can at last embrace your lover once more.
past the precipice
and over the edge,
drowning
in cavernous depths, forever and ever.
him in your arms,
numb
dizzy
until the oxygen runs out.

Hia! I hope you are having a great day 😊 The summary is already very intriguing! Let’s head straight into your poem!

I already love the personification in the first three lines.

Ohh I didn’t know moths ate wood? I like how the lines read with it but it did give me pause, thinking abt the biology…

I like the way you are building up the narrative. Of the death of the lover being part of a horrible dream and “waking up” from it to look back on that “nightmare”.

I also like the image of the tears leaving marks on his cheeks that need to be healed by the reality of how he died.

Oh I have never seen it described like that, very good:

eyes scathing and sharp, cigarette smoke frozen over.

and neither is the damp, rotting wood you curl up against.

because you are afraid that
if you speak
he will not answer.

he wouldn’t want to be alone,

Heyyy! Catsz here to drop by and leave a review for review day!
This looks like a very interesting poem, let’s dive into it!
The title states a place, and it has so many possible meanings already. Maybe a favorite of a lost love, or friend. Maybe it is the narrators favorite.

The first part sets the setting. At the foot of a cross, near a crumbling cliff, looking down into the depths of the waters. Great imagery you’ve got there. “Unmarked, no name.” That makes us wonder what happened. Subtle foreshadowing…their lover died?

Aw, this is so sad! The narrator is telling someone to stop and take a breath near the place their lover enjoyed the most. They are telling her to stop paying attention to the rainy weather, and think about their lover. And that sends her into a spiral of memories, and melancholy.

We get a hint of how he died. The poem dragged me to the end because of how hooking it is, and it’s so tragic! He was a boy or a man who loved the ocean, despite it being cold, he was adventurous. The imagery of his breath on her cheeks is a great way to spiral.

He wd so curious about the ocean and its waves, and would often be cold. He preferred to be alone with the saltwater and the ocean, and the narrator states that clearly through all the rest. Great work!

At last, his tragic end was to drowning, and that’s so so sad The way she could still feel her arms holding the boy that was once so alive, who id now cold and limp.

Overall this was such a gorgeously tragic end, and I enjoyed reading it so much!! Continue writing my friend, you have great potential. Happy writing!
~catsz