indigo tide this is the year the water decides to be bluer each day. i agree. a needed direction. we watch, standing on the shore holding up paint swatches naming her new face. blueberry wine. lavender azure. if i could i would put my body in a raft & send her out to discover her own atoll. then, the rest of me could be the ghost i've always wanted. once, we bathed together & the ocean rose from the faucet. loud & full of urchins. sea foam & white sand in the drain. cold, i pressed my hand to your back to feel warmth. like anyone, all my sadness comes as water. a thicket of wind. i miss how you used to find me with starfish in my hair. i crave discovery. you ripping me from a bed of kelp. floating past monsters in their depths as the blue around us verges on purple. they remember how in the early times all the water used to be red & thick. in their ancientness they wonder where we are headed. somedays i almost ask you the same. my body finds new land. i can feel it. lays down & lets moss gross across her chest. foot prints in the sand leading to water. when i say "we" i mean just me & the desire for your company. i bend down to the water. notice each grain of salt glistening as a school of diamonds. i ask the deep, "what can i do to help?" she greets me with a swell. waves applause breaking. palms to a drum's face. the death of bell. i do not know what she is asking for. i give her a memory of us by the beach. made miniature in the shadows of great shoreline rocks. two of my face in your sunglasses. the water used to be green then.