dearest,
                          today         i was
                   the ocean.         
                 i tried to
               reach the
            forest but
         could only get
    as far as sand  before the
cratered  moon pulled me back again.


 
           ankles
       the       of
      at            shrie-
    i bit                king,
                           shivering
                            children and retreated
                               back into my cocoon of
                                 plankton and salt. i crashed and
                                  rushed, i tried to seize the sky but gravity                                
                                    yanked me down. it felt like all the forces in the universe were against me.
                                      maybe i had too much influence to be left alone lest i lure in
                                        some lonely young woman to seek my murky depths,
                                          hair floating like a halo of feathers.

                                                     
i emptied myself of all things human,
    filling up with water until i was a giant balloon
             and    let        the               tide              carry
                                                                                           me
                                                                                                               away

(that's
 when
 i
 under
 stood
 what
 it is
 to be
 a
 poet)

this morning I woke in
the middle of the ocean after
a night of your gentle waves lulling
me to sleep,

you smiled at my wet lips
and heavy eyes and said
never regret this smile, never forget
this joy.

we linger here now, in between
worlds, washed up
ashore.

my subconscious is a continent, my bones
the aching tectonic plates of the earth

rubbing raw against yours. take me
deep into the technicolor canvas

of your mind, paint my body with
the soft brush of your lips. find all

my creases and crooks and pry me
open quietly, let my spine crack

open like an old book. take me out
into the street and we'll dance

in circles like laughing children
and feel our worry wrinkles melting

away. nothing is more clear to me
than the bright blueness of your eyes,

the gibbous moon shining down from
the sky and our shy smiles.

she sits
heaving on the bathroom
floor on sunday nights like
it's in style to have rotten teeth
and bloodshot eyes
and all 206 bones on display like
a natural history exhibit
(in fifty years they will line
 up before your corpse to see
 the girl who had to ring
 Death's doorbell exactly seven
 times before he opened the door)

trees shiver in winter
until all the snow scatters
to the ground and they are left
bare and naked like skinny
children left on the side of the road.
snow crystallizes in my hair until
it is stiff and white. i miss the days
when the sky was black at night
instead of faded grey and when
i didn't face nightmares of
carving your sarcophagus.