Finding gold

The afternoon winter sun —
a glass ball,
melted like rose butter
on the surface of the pool.

I followed it down with my arms
into noiseless relief
where the dark sky money season
can't reach me —

only the memory of every sparkling sea coast
as I kick through past lives.

Some places are a muscle
you can only find
repeating the stretch.


LJ Ireton, 2025

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