Sea of men

Trying to find you among them in this march that doesn’t stop each shoulder that turns around; a different face Not you Not you Not you Sea of pain floating here sinking in rain

Making me beg

Sitting on your lap, looking at the ocean You hold a drink in one hand, and my swimsuit’s back strap with the other You gaze, kindly at the sea Making me beg that it be me

Dancing with water

He takes the lead and holds you in his strong arms, reassuringly He is sea god You trust completely and let go while dancing with water

If it were up to me

If it were up to me, I wouldn’t care. I wouldn’t smile. I wouldn’t talk much. I’d be sitting by the beach all day, writing, quenching thirst with juice in the other hand. Bare skinned and in a swimsuit, lounging and dipping into the smelting hot golden sand. Letting my skin bake into the brownest

Night cloud

Tonight I turn to the stars, faceless, Turn into night clouds, grey and transparent, rolling over the skies like a mystic. Tonight I stand atop the hill, slouched like an empty bowl, alone and crazy like a silent maniac While thunderstorms cut across And the grey seas snatch with temper Angry at me While I

Sliding with the Earth

Floating in a sea of confusion, going somewhere, going nowhere. Floating on a makeshift raft with shades over my eyes, arching with the curve of the globe, while plate tectonics slide. Underneath this heavy crust, to my surprise, is just foam.