Carry Me to the Tide

Find more red clay, press
for to the sides of day passing,
I hear it’s more stable falling

into eyes than jumping into
the heart. Everyone should know
this, ignores the gentle harmonies–

what else isn’t new? Besides
everything? There is the screen
door barely keeping us apart

from arms or bees, forces
attracted to nesting in my hair
and I’ll take which ever finds

the way first, as long as we’re
both tied up inside my head’s
filling. Find the way to green waves

and find the space where
it’s deep enough so your fingers
can’t feel the air. Only feel

the weight of dye under skin,
all the open wounds finding
relief beneath high tide’s push…


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