WILLOW

and what is the tide without the moon?
gazing at me like a silent voyager.
i looked into your soul and saw the same.

sand like skin and blood.
but you talk about dreams as though you've never drowned before.
as though they've never splintered your skull
or torn craters through your chest.
dreams, you say.
you've had them too.

and you swear you've been here before.
so fold me into your arms
for a jaywalkers' afternoon.