after three years


The ocean

Your sea, unruffled, then

An ensemble, impatient

Billowing from Sundays to the boys

I wreathed my linens with

It was all lush, dripping, salt water

On your pink, unclouded skin

A university flame shelled

By full moon worships

When the tide is obtuse, when you slither

To solid grayness and become

My favorite storyteller

Mama

I forgot Superman, I forgot

Diana Ross, the rosary you taught me to pray.

The daft whimpering pigeons on the roof

My tears on your lips

The ocean.

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