Place the ring around your finger.
Let it spin. Pretend, for once,
that something can attain
perpetual motion. You drive back-
country roads to leave a life behind
yet miss the destined exit. Consider
the spin of the Earth, the galaxy,
the universe. At what point does
longing end? There are always
voids to fill, vast pits of fruit
you would savor if you could
stay still enough to love
(originally published in Cabildo Quarterly, Fall 2017)
As the tide heartbeats forth,
my lovers return in salt.
Silver-winged seagull loses herself
Yesterday I thought
I would be in love forever–
today, whiskey on my tongue,
sand in my eyes.
I want to find every person
I ever loved within the waves,
how navy shuts
thin books of light.
The line between sand & tide
is awash with wings.
Salt burns my mouth
& I am drenched
in your foam, milking
the sea for words–
the sea swollen with stories
we never told,
(originally published in Common Ground Review, Spring 2018)