I could wade the deepest pools
if your hand clasped mine.
I'm holding on to you like a child.
Too beautiful to be jealous,
too mournful to
drip
deep
longing;
it settles on the ocean floor.

I've been swimming underwater
in my de-rippled sea
and I can't hear my own words.
(when I speak, nothing comes out.)
But they all look decent,
silhouetted against the sun
above the surface
for I can't hear them speak,
either.

I'm swimming alone.
(but my naked body feels graceful)
If only you could see
more then my sea-legged stutter
as I wobble on the circus ropes of land-lubbing.

P L A C I D  T O  T H E  E Y E

The sharp-toothed dangers
wait in aquatic lust
for unfamiliar travelers.
I am submerged
(your death pushed my head under)
and I'm growing gills; all I'm hoping
is that I won't run out of breath
before they're finished
evolving.

Oh, dear. The moon is full.
The tidal waves drool and cross their legs;
I'm inclined to quietly implode
and let them flow through my mouth
in ways I'd rather die then hear.