i blink sand out of my eyes/listen to the ancient tides sob.
she sits knees-to-chest/surging, lucid. touching her is a
rapture /i am not ready for.
i fill mason jars with algae and soap/she throws the sea
glass back into the ocean/again, and again/until there is
nothing more to soften.
i press my forehead into the tender/violet webs
on my palms/my veins, this casual netting, tossed
overboard wide and swinging.
i try to find something to say/clamber, wingless and
dimming/and still, I don’t know/ why i never feel so
alone as/when i am loved/loudly