I have been standing here along the shoreline,
still as sea rock, arms outstretched and palms skyward,
trying to feel the weight of the moon.
I know not of how light the light can be but instead, how heavy the absence thereof.
In my body, composed of want and water, I have not found moon nor sun.
In my body, where my veins heavy themselves with night sky purple, I find you flowing.
I walk eyes closed into deep blue and squish
my toes into the belly of the ocean floor. Here, I am more salt
than salvation.
Here, I do not know you
anymore. With my eyes closed, I cannot tell dark from day.
The ebb and flow of things carries me
back and forth, towards and away, heavy and light.
Here, I am more human than anything else.