On the rock beach where the blue heron stared us down one after another like the riffraff we are, loitering in his territory,
my feet grip the moss and I can smell ocean smells.
Feel ocean feels against my skin.
When I look at you, you’ve turned yourself into liquid and you glow in the water like hammered copper mixed with sunlight.
Your body ripples with the river and your long limbs sink into the pools of shadows
and suddenly I’m afraid it will swallow you in a wet yawn and spit out your bones, sinew, and hair for me to divine all alone and without you.
Instead you open your eyes and in them I can see how time has distorted and molded you.
I see where you are frayed and where you are polished.
Katzcrunch 