with the tide - a poem

with the tide

(an ode to the moon, Mother Nature, and the feminine)

the promises on her lips swell and burst

I imagine the canyons in her throat

the rivers twisting in her mouth

she is much older than I am

sculpted by other bodies

 

my honeysuckle chafes under her desert edges

my electric colored dresses shatter and I quake

in her cold moon eyes

 

swept under by her tidewater dance

the ebb and flow

I’ll wash up on the shore

human driftwood warped and washed clean

clutching at the before

choking on the after