Tides

If the ocean
were warm as breath
it would feel like this

bearing me up
weightless
on the tide
drawn
between moon
and shore
I am engulfed
in the waves
rocking my body
tang of salt
on my lips
wet hair streaming
the rhythm
washes over
and through me

until I break
through the surface
and joy
rushes into me
in deep,
shuddering breaths

April 25, 1999

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