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

We live in a pale globe, haloed by the light of underwater moons...

which, of course, never really dies so much as goes on and
on and on until it forgets itself. in this way, i want to slip away...

Pale jawbones form an archway,
ribs reach into a vaulted ceiling...

cocoa-crimson sawdust
christens my soft hands...

On the days I see sky colourless
over a stagnant water...

Once
upon...

my lover holds her own silent space in the silver light : the violent tide rushes in...

you hug the ocean into the closed folds of your body / the ripples become your favourite songs...

Beaches are very ancient places.
I realise this as Lauren is telling me...

My granny spoke of how she learned to swim:
North Sea churning around blue...

God doubled the shell of the crab, knowing
how sweet its meat would be. In captivity...

I am more glass than sand
and not clear or shatterproof...