Every morning
walking through campus
I tiptoe across
a vast yard of hearts.
        some broken some brimming
some silent others spinning

Every morning
spent walking through campus
I tug my jacket front shut
          A little bit tighter
I keep mine close

The shore is always there—
beyond the rocky coast
a hawk whips a wing at
the volatile sea, quaking from the force
of an unseen monster below whose
walloping jaws flop open to consume all,
yet some nights the monster’s mouth
matches mine; she gently kisses me
inside a sea-strewn dream,
her slick blue skin descending
beneath moonlit flesh—she’s emerging
from the waves, lunging toward the clouds
adorned with detonations
of sea green and foam
Her dive ends
She’s the whale again
A shadow beneath blue white glass
On I sail,
scanning the dark familiar ocean
      it means everything.

To walk beneath trees
wreathed in yellow-green
and not sigh
To dip my toes in a cold
pond as dawn blooms
and not look up
To see a spider, bright green,
scramble up my arm
and not marvel
To watch as wild rain
bursts through thunder clouds
and not shudder
To step atop a dark blue
sea, death swarming beneath
and drown only in fear
To not know God.
To not know life.