we danced with wind-tangled hair, lime green, pollen dusted hope - oranges in the morning, grapefruit at midnight. i'm not afraid to say good bye. the ocean is my salt. it makes life palatable. i will not be drowned but someday, i will die. i know . . . it's okay. time to go home (shrug) someday. meanwhile, my life gets skinnier day by day. shiny things in the night, call my name, luna moths and cicadas tell me their stories. dress me in red. bathe me in white. my english is british swirled with hillbilly things. or maybe dyslexia? these little twists in my brain, they break with the waves. they make me and unmake me. backwards, sacred, circles to spirals, mary and francis turn me, to the sun, to the water, to the moon in its orbit. you and i will walk hand in hand, down to the lake with our poles in hand. we will catch the warm air on our faces, but we won't catch much more, just tangles in our lines. and really, that's just fine.