a memory of us or the moon's pull

i put a strawberry in my mouth
& it becomes a boat. we sit.
rocky water. moon dunking itself
into the surf:
pitch black night full of holes.
an ocean is always having a grand opening
somewhere near by. whose sand 
is in my living room today?
whose sea shells in my cupboard?
when i met you, you told me 
you could sink ships with just a glance.
i walked on watch & begged you
to peer into me. the bath tube
gets deeper. the faucets bleed easy.
nothing can prevent a face 
from becoming an oar. 
we are sailing the boat. 
you navigate & the stars scurry 
back & forth to confuse us. 
we will likely
never arrive. we might just
run out of shores.
there are only so many salvations left
on this shivering planet. 
the earth is not round 
it is an oak leaf.
have you never looked at the ground
& seen the veins?
i draw a card from the water.
it's death. i draw again it's
the moon & we're pulled 
into a whirlpool. 
underwater you change into 
a boy who i knew years & years ago.
he had huge knuckles 
& a firm grip. he grabs my arm.
neither of us swim
to the surface. 
i spit out the strawberry.
a kitchen window. a mop & a broom.
just me soaking wet. dripping
on the tile floor. salt water.
a scarf of sea weed.
the moon knocks on the glass
& asks if i'm going to eat my fruit.
i wave & tell it i do plan to.
there are no visitors. there is 
no "you." i look
at my hands.

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