lines by the water

her stars align.


each line




has something like

blood    stone

torn       limb

skin        prick


a flesh wound that actually



kick-starts her

heart     some part

of herself            half





so she was

here      her syllables

clues missed


by the meticulous

casuals                  in blue


on the sand-flecked

floor for instance              her

back room

at the end of a long

hall         for instance        the


sun-tipped straw              o the wide

round of days days          long

sky         the riverbed


grey       a face

in water               her dress


by stones            that had lain


among the bric-a-brac

of the bank         sand

& flowers


she lay in the hollow

pool of shallows where

spectres bowed


disfigured            eyes wide

saw the line that

divides this world

from another



I need to be high like

this         at her feet. beneath

her skirt               I fell

on purpose         tried

all night to see

nothing but her white


stars head high &

the blue light of an ambulance



she was here one summer

& when she left I shook at the knees.


In dreams her hair’s

real short             her eyes


glazed                   wide

like strangers


in the night

cars on the highways


of your sleep

& when you wake

miles away


cows graze



of spring

worlds away

but you anyway are.

really there



in the curves

of her line

breaks  snake

hip          syllables

coil         slumber



crawl. shed skin.

score bark. round

my neck down

the boughs & twigs

of my finger



no big deal

but                         still



try me

she says               ok


I will



it’s winter.


tuesday. we had lunch

by the lakes.

the sun shone.

the sky was blue

& the water…


birds flew

both ways because it’s all so




we met

in the cherry red

mirror between

2 brush strokes


One thought to “lines by the water”

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