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

the salted water rushes up to your chin
dressing you in a turtleneck...

Here along the coast
we raise our houses...

There is finally time to care
for the spring buds...

If you imagine me,
imagine me in the ocean...

August sparks electricity
where each touch is heat lightning in...

I carry
an ocean within...

I wonder where the seagull goes at night,
where she lends her strange pink feet...

If we never met, if your hand never
rested on the small of my back, if I hadn’t...

a girl sits on a pier.
there’s no running from what is...

I am as the tide
drawn to you and pushed from you...

like wrinkles
only the foam is left...

the ocean
was in a rage last night...