look at me,                look through your fingers
roll the anticipation of the coming waves between your quiet moves
for if you let your eyes see through, how ocean feels it
i cannot promise that you will let it to let you go

curls of azure hide back stretch marks of mountain ranges
moss patches up old rips, grass sews them into scars
and deep within wavelengths above our barren senses
they talk of things we could not ever see from where we are

i’ve gathered splinters of these trees within cloth of my pockets,
bodies of hills have held us in their rocky arms
they sent me back alive to bring the tidings over
they’d come for those who decimate  their paradise

my hands are cold — that’s how wind likes it better
       its breath gloved up my skin like it knew who i was
        like i was meant to wear its trust over my soft demeanor
        stumble through fields and streets, drag every sigh along

i, too, am patched
with stitches of oblations
i, too, am washed away with bitter ocean tears
when you put fingers in these waters and you feel vibrations
know it’s the last song of my voice that’s calling you to me