Gulf and Color

by

Kris Hiles

I've been to the gulf twice.

When I was older
you came along and in
the bonfire of your sanded skin
I saw the chasm in me
waving back, ripples
when I was a skinny little girl
at the shoreline
where the waves were
so clear I could see my toes
taking steps oblivious
to the black water
drowning the horizon line.

Kris Hiles is an autistic queer poet living in a blue house with her plants and vinyl records. She likes snow, the smell of archives, and vintage computers. You can find her on Twitter @KrisHiles.