liberation of sunbaked energies in the name

of connection

inhale, first

constant grasp, no lavender fields
or all of the lavender fields one could wish for

                                                            hold in lungs

liberation of sunbaked energies in the name

of soul-searching

draw to a close, takes breath away

                        this is death marked by excess
death marked by a shore hugging too tightly—

 

a weekday outside the Magic Beach Motel: stars keep shooting off behind
Eric’s head; pink yellow white, pink yellow tings with tequila
chain-smoke while he tells us about future plans (memorials now)

another sunset down the gutter, how every Floridian’s
night begins, antique muffled voices all born unlucky

with skin (rub salt over the shoulders, repeat daily...)

I think of littering my feathers behind, the world taking
a long drag
                        sigh heaving, ocean crash somewhere nearby

 

another Thursday, after the psychic reader on Bernard Street
performs her fifth reading flipping Ace of Pentacles

then she walks into the Atlantic, pod of sea weed washing
up in her place
                         more memorials, mouths stay closed
                        like stretched badlands along arid shores,

eyes doing more swimming,
learning to see with salt stuck to eyelashes,

 not easy picking oxygen to pull from under water

Published by Kristiane Weeks-Rogers