at even-ing I slid down from a boulder

into her

world, just as the bay began tinting

movements more lithe than water.

what was high of her tide reached out

as a dark wayside, arresting its

ongoing flood of beat-back ripples.

it was there I wanted to take some

kind of lasting hold of her living

waters.

internally covet a piece of her flow--

manifest perfect memory at will.

I was carried off, in sounds of wetness

and I floated the same as I drowned--

she was everywhere.

all I could do was slide down, and

know there can be nothing taken

away from experience--but the

breadth of her love.