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)

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.

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