tops of trees emerge from a mist
The fog is drawing away
First a fullness, then a line,
Detail and blending
Bending like a taken path
Leading my eyes
Impatient with the haze
Curling northward towards the stars and the night
The steamed windows to the East cloud a view of the sea
Slapping against old wood and hoisted nets
To the West lies the land
To the South the past
At the navel
Knotted and constantly washed
We sit incongruously leaning
and turning
Covering each other daily
We speak of our distractions, confusions, and needs
Half in their own submerged world
Jerked squirming to the deck
Sporadic
“What do you see?” she asks.
Curling her parted thighs beneath her
A smile spreads like a breeze on her face
Her freckles pop out like the sun
“My body feels like a post
Almost covered in sand.”
She says, “Talk to me specifically.”
“My body is hot wood and sand.”
She says, “If we buy a dog, will you teach her to love me?”
“What would you teach her to do to me?”
I think about her feet and her toes begin to twitch.
There is a sense of advantage that could lead to betrayal