Reflection – Poem

To each of your oarlessness
I will be sun.  I can not be your
ground, your tugboat.  You
must move on your own–
hands and breath.

Arms up you ask for
albumin and less leather.
Prayers like needles
on a record player, you imagine
If you’re lonesome tonight…
and you’d dance if you
weren’t so afraid of
the tilt to submergence.

Floating in the same sea
unified by gallons and gallons
of shadow frames,
the fractioned grasp of
your own ribs.  If you ask me
kindly, I’ll come–

I did. I exploded
like hootch in your gut
with a warm confusion
you couldn’t control.

I am finless, wingless
but not wordless.  Listen–
presence is all I have to give.

You’ll find the one to save you
on the surface
when the waves go down.


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