boil your heart down to the stone. line them up between
the hedges. for you i called down the moon. the foam-
ringed shoulders of the sea did more than shiver.
the silver lining of your mouth glinted in the light,
shed its lips and what was shadow went unseen
i wandered your coast filled with white shells and loam
where i buried my journal and ink in a watery blur
there were too many prophecies hinging on what might
happen, how just the flick of your wrist could clean
the shore of debris and i couldn’t go beachcomb
for moonlight anymore, drunk on frankincense and myrrh
looking for something hidden like a pearl so bright
and how many times must i be held and submerged beneath
and how many hearts must i pluck from between your teeth


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