The tide that left and never came back.

i was asked
are you like one of those language-y poets?

yes, i speak it

i think everyone talks poetry all the time. most of them don’t know it. but they do. earlier tonight i heard someone utter the words

green lights illuminate us

& it reminded me there’s no reason to disguise our conversations with blatant body language:

too weak to work a can opener and the milk
just goes spilling– out slips

the real meaning of what we are speaking here which is: you & i need each other like boats need lighthouses

we know the other more & where one plunders
the sky above where the water cuts & plunges in

& so we watch droplets bead on the wings
of a dark bird

against a dark cloud-backed sky

unblinking, ribbon blades through memories
& watch the seafoam cast its soft spell on the shore

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