Beneath the Blue

I saw you underneath veiny ropes

and twisted nets

in the summer of 99.

Where old sea ships lie

Myths of mermaids

A black shoe

No, breaching acrobat, you were lobtailing.

You were logging.

I remember you now.

My feet are in the sand.

I hear you Monday, Sunday

Your sea songs at first I thought laughter

Now I know your eerie high-pitched tune

You lost your daughter

Twisted nets

Veiny ropes

I’ll come in. I’ll come in again.

I want to hold your dorsal fin

and ride beneath the wind.


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