The Tide Arrives

The tide arrives

and i lay in bed–still, soft, blinking

every day is my birthday

and my soul spilling back into my body feels like an ocean licking that line of sand that’s always wet

300 million years old and counting

my breath an ancient current, dark and deep

a God spot on my chest and he can’t take his eyes off me

I think I’d like to hear what my voice sounds like this early in the morning

my bedroom voice making love to the sound of bird call and coffee makers

Mmmm…

God I’ve missed so much

Maybe I’ll write something now

Maybe I’ll reach for the great enigma of Tomas Transtromer with the two little dots over the O

Maybe I’ll just stay here awhile and let the tendons in my toes

remind me that I’m still alive

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