battered with red kisses
a boy called ocean with
mid-summer ribs
rust unfolding itself
across his chest
and salt and raw and frozen
fractals,
sweet bodies
endless sands
waves
cracked holy monuments
glossy jostlers
sorry means
stars swallow the right
notes, every daylight
plucked with loose fingers,
a boy called ocean
with freshwater shoulders
remembers drinking opposite
a ghost, bones rippling,
veins winter,
yellow
goodbyes washed in
exposed bonfires he
appears raptured
bound in dirt
and barren nails
he asks to ride
tomorrows tides,
a golden crash on horizon  
his only answer
the pink of morning
brimming starless,
over his burning
home.