harking back to an earlier poem of mine: poor wendy -- all the heroines get left behind. but she was a darling after all. yes, i very much have tears in my eyes. and it shall be hard to see, and sometimes i won't want to, but i will go on looking an...
after a while i let my feet drag in the water : it is a pinch of salt dream punch that made me glad to see you : later i'm not myself when i lull .
after a while there is a light fog of rain in my hair : you are lamplight yellowed helloed by birds which sing though the day is far —
a hand — his hand — guides my face a jaw not sore : alcohol fused with the pavement on these knees the lace of a skirt : i bring up the day tear-mixed — sickly kiss —
you do not know how this eye rolls and flickers on your abdomen with his fingers hooked in my hair : the disconnect as you murmur to a girl
but my mouth is full : of you and i gaze at a lamppost and hear voices ask : why are you here : sweet thing ? i do not taste sweet i taste salt
sea water how i wish i had leapt over the harbour —
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