I toed the ocean’s green.
It took me to his face,
a match in colors,
his eyes and this water
both hypnotizing,
like a moth to a flame.
But the sand was coarse
unlike his smoothness,
coat after creamy coat of membrane thin
porous loveliness, to let him live and breathe.
It looked unreal -
him a doll, and this sea
a painting -
‘twas all too much beauty
to encompass in one place,
one body.
That’s where balance storms in,
for the water she roars
she shouts and she tugs.
His eyes tug too, at my heart.
With matching habits
they pull and smash me
then carry me out till someone
cares to find me.
Another one from the archives.
I'll have to find the date.
