the sea bore me during low tide.
my tiny body raced into the rocky shore,
and my back bled crimson and yellow.
it was here that i learned how to wail.
a set of arms curiously trace the scars. i
read this as love, and we sift our hands underneath
each other’s flesh. our arms in an embrace for eternity.
our eyes glossed over with tears.
i perform a surgical procedure on myself:
scalpels, scissors, and two pairs of arms
hanging a lifeless blue from their tendons.
i weep from the butchering.
the sun seemed to hang in the blue sky
with no intention of setting—
its certainty scorched
relentless against my skin.
and so i lay calmly beneath it,
so as to let it peel me clean and
evaporate the mist that remained
from that endless beautiful twilight.
and i will gather the salt on my face.
i will let it dry my tongue
of the words that poured
nourishingly and sweet.
and i will hold this body with my own hands.
i will heave it upwards
to let it face the horizon
with a smile well-rehearsed.
the dawn peers over the horizon,
beginning its burning of mist
in a glow tinted orange.
orange like the salt lamp upon
the bedpost, a candlelight vigil
drenched by deep blue sheets and
sea foam irises.
the lovers’ flesh fused overnight,
harboring dewy eyelids and fresh
pulses of the heart. a finger
traces across the gully of a chest.
inseparable as the sun kisses
the horizon’s other shoulder.
moments of balmy summer, of
saltwater skin and sticky
eyelids, pooled in that soft
place between your ribs and
shoulder blade. my ear pressed
into you, your blood made the
sound of crashing waves and
a rhytmic thud of feet atop
your fingers dip into strands
of my hair as gravity
pulls to the sea floor.
your voice a fleeting sound
as a kite cut loose.
a forked bone consisting of two fused clavicles
nested between the neck and breast of a bird.
she closed her eyes,
holding lightly her end of
the wishbone between
her fingertips. he tugged in
tandem with her, breaking
the brittle bone and silence.
he held the end that won his wish.
she had hoped he read her mind.
on my lap laid your head, which
amassed an amount of sandy curls
as you turned to me and to my thighs.
restless as we were,
the two of us in the backseat at
ninety miles per hour,
i ran my fingers through your hair,
parting stems of sweet wildflowers
and feeling your twitching soften
to long breaths and a faint smile.
you gaze a
an embrace &