sea glass genesis 

i have been trying to make my own seaglass
like the pieces we found on the shore in maine.
i fill the bath rub with table salt & then water.
i tend to believe anything found
can be made. this is not so much out of arrogance
as it is out of fear. what if the ocean 
flips over? what if the last sliver
of sea glass is harvested? 
i often press seeds into my palms 
& make a fist until a sapling sprouts 
between my knuckles. natures is 
buzzing inside me. i wish we lived
in a time of ship wrecks. i would do well
culling the debris & standing on the rocky shore line
till my eyes blared like a lighthouse--
two white bright holes towards the ocean.
do you remember the sound 
the sea glass made as the pieces 
clinked in our pockets? you wore plaid shorts
& i wore the pink flower dress. 
i am so far from an ocean like that.
sometimes i think i am the only one
who truly wants to run away anymore.
i do not own anything. not a house
or a car or even a microwave 
at least not anymore. i don't know
what i'll do with the glass once it is frosted 
& worn with salt. once the edges 
are no longer sharp & the surface
is the texture of a sugar cube.
i used to make necklaces with the pieces
we plucked together but they are all 
knotted in an unreachable cardboard box. 
i break a bottle in the alley 
& carry the fragments with care 
towards my own little ocean. 
the tub starts to swells with waves.
i can't resist dipping my feet in.
you helped me take off my socks & shoes.
you set them on a huge flat rock
as i walked on top of sea glass.
cool navy water. you took a picture of me
with your iphone. the picture turned to sea glass
a long time ago. you turned to sea glass
a long time ago & now you lie face-up
in the box of necklaces i made.
i invented an attic room just for you.
the sea glass is ready. i cup 
three shards in my hands. all the mirrors 
in the bathroom frost over too
& then my eyes. it's contagious.
i should have been more careful. 
an ocean will invite another ocean.
a frosted surface will always want company.
i imagine your eyes frosting over too
wherever they linger in the water.