Your name I say over and over.
I love how its kind shape feels
as it rolls over my tongue.

The first lie is the hardest
all others
are easy

Ten black crows
in a red-budded
cottonwood tree
basking in the eerie
glow of the waning sun
bruised, livid sky
weighted air
waves shush, shush
on the receding tide
serenity reigns
but I can feel it
hovering offshore
a curled fist
wound tight
ready to strike