the tide rises, the tide falls | an oceanic literary magazine

Collate a map.
Climb slow and careful through a window...

snowflakes into the black lake...

Dark water churning
White horses tumble forward...

Every shell is dipped in night.
Place an ear against the ceramic...

I drown 3 times a day (conservatively)
I drown when red poppy lips to my ear...

Ripples over sand tell me I am sliding
towards where beach becomes ocean. Yet my body...

striped flag around your shoulders, eyes whet
with stolen triumph. & this era of wanting...

It wasn’t something I could fix by swimming sideways.
That was how dolphins made love...

ocean house stands as tall as button mushrooms in the night
but when the moon makes her appearance so too does the house...

Though big as an index finger,
we hold up the sea..

Slipping between the rain studded waves, I become water. Swaying with the kelp in the ebb and flow, I relax, lose myself for a while...

three days in the cabin
and we haven't yet...