i stand here waiting
down in the cold mud
gravity pulling me
back down to earth.
naked, ******,
vulnerable, bear,
my body is not mine.

she stands across
the lone river bend
my species, my kind,
my enemy and friend.
she is alone, a small rock in a pond.
she sits and stares
her body is not hers either.

down in a large boat
a broad man arrives
He sets down his anchor,
to her He strides.
He picks her up, throws her
down, down, into his prison.
His palms guide him to what he owns.

i still stand here waiting
for my own turn to be
on a boat, far away,
in a place of a dream.
my eyes find the sharp ridges
that young boat had endured.

it belongs to a man
made from the soft skin of a tree
he stripped it bare, nailed it down
so it would never be free
the boat and me naked
our bodies not ours.