you won't break-
the sturdy metal bones,
your skin of shimmering soil,
teeth of opal.
so unlike me-
dishwater hair in curls,
porcelain skin,
aged paper bones.
fingertips raw,
you could scatter me
like dust, ash.
but you won't break.
i grind into you
with all my might,
feather and boulder,
somehow intertwined.
i know this,
you gently touch
your copper hand to mine.

he turned his ocean eyes
to bear into mine.
i could feel the waves crash around.
sure, i know the difference between he and i.
Neptune to a jellyfish.
still, he holds me
like the god of the sea.
his sea salt skin, rubbed
free of impurities.
his sunbleached hair
and watertanned chest,
they tower over me.
he towers over me-
his infinite stare,
the turbulent crests.
surely i'll be caught
in the undertow.

he drips water from his fingers-
hands that heal, mend,
give life
to the warm, brown soil.
his knuckles, red and swelling,
like a tree branch,
the height.
maybe his body holds the sun.
heat exudes from every pore-
the warmth.
I couldn't compare him to the sea,
the cold darkness, fruitless,
like me.
we live in contrasts.
everything he touches
comes to life;
everything I touch,
to stone.
so I wonder,
when we touch-
why doesn't that
feel wrong?

He spent half the day in the yard
Pruning and plucking the dead
Water and fertilizer and strong hands
Life sprung from all that he touched.
He wiped the light sweat from his brow,
The bandana he kept on his forehead,
And stepped back to admire his lands
Life and color bounced across the ground.
Petunias and irises and tiger lilies;
Cabbages so green, tomatoes so red;
Everything lined neatly in bands;
All the life he had created.
Once he was through, he came back inside.
Took a shower and crawled beside me in bed,
Fingers on my back, watched as it expands
And wondered why he couldn't bring me back to life.

sometimes i picture you laughing
the way you once did with me.
your teeth like seashells,
your hair falling in your face.
stumbling in the ocean,
wrapped in the seaweed phase.
god, the wilderness in your freckles.
i have loved and loved ten times more,
the one i thought would always come back.
he is no more.
replaced by such calm crests.
when it was us,
you were the storm.

if i could shout it from the treetops,
maybe i would.
would it do any good?
this
burning down of caverns
this
aching throb of injustice.
nonsense to distribute
that which is not allowed-
an unholy cloud disfigured.
but smiles fill their faces
silence covers mine.
still, time creeps.
crickets chirp.
chunks of ice freeze.