with your tender resolve
and head full of theory

you pry
open my faith
like an oyster.

god and all
of his friends,
the weightless skeleton of
my soul,
and watery bodies
of love

pour from the split
and into your
eyes...

(having been plunged into
the sea

little fingers, laden with salt
inflict unsung pain
onto docile, faceless creatures

with such innocence
it could make you cry.

wild eyes that don’t
yet know
the fragile difference
between the living
and the not.

and their
treasure

these
rugged pockets of mystery
retrieved from the surf,

do not protest.

delight streams through
the gaps between
their opal teeth-
spaces
as dark and
warm as sorrow-

at the feeling of
jumbled
organs against
their hands.

they do not know
what
it is that they
touch
but the ******, grey
silk inside
feels like all
sorts of heaven
to them.

it is just yet noon,
although the sky
swings low,

the old
titter from afar

and the children
have
several buckets
full
of everything they
need
to keep going

until

they know better

)