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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.  

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