lunar

Sometimes, you are lunar. The sea comes up in waves, always. and I plead with it, first in play with my feet, and then I take its cold shock all over. Sometimes, we are a rolling tide. Isn't that what a love is? Cold and infinite. and I float with it, first in play in our tidal froth, and then it owns me as a slave. and I am free. Don't you ever look up and hear it? The breaking, of the tidal moon. Sometimes, you are lunar, and I am brought to my knees. I often think on how our eyes touched before our lips where did the ocean come from, is what she asked me, as we cried in the sand my clean white skull basked empty, in her pale glow. and how I saw it, pooling wet between my toes. when my brain flowed out in messianic waves. where did the ocean come from, my dear, is what she asked me, as we cried in the sand my clean white skull basked empty, in her pale glow. Sometimes, you are lunar, and I am brought to my knees. I often think on how our eyes touched before our lips and how I saw it, pooling wet between my toes. when my brain flowed out in messianic waves. where did the ocean come from, my dear is what she asked me, as we cried in the sand my clean white skull basked empty, in --