Aside from a few thousand miles and tattoos like a grocery list,
I’m still that girl breaking horse hair on cat gut.
Full of pizzicato that rises and rests I remember hot summer night sounds.
I miss staring into red suns behind black bare trees.
Running through dark alleys full of your curls we’d sing and cough with liquored smiles.
Put my notes in an envelope and send me off with your Sunday best.
Label it with Scotch and your cigarettes.
Let our life fade into the sea, winding through the surf.
I love who I was but this is not who I am.
Pressed into books half made and abandoned, my heart collects the film of glass.
I will keep treading water, inviting you to stay with the sharks I’ve come to know.
Bestill your landlocked mind and stretch your limbs into the sea.
With wind cool and strong, I scatter my thoughts in every direction.