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| 1000 lovers |
| Swim with me. . . to where the fish swim down to gather within our belly shape, to a place where waves break on wet, wet rocks as the cold water rushes up. Ancient wrinkles crack open today, by the ocean where we are seamless seagulls against a blue gray sky. Eggs in a basket on the shore glisten like marble. We will watch as they float away, each by each into the foam, where they will sink. . . yes, and fall, back into the pale watery shadows to dance with the seaweed, and dream of 1000 lovers kissing stones into the sea. |
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