ocean water
in my eye
i have a problem with words
i keep them
to myself. someday
like a bottle with no top
i will burst
from the tension
of this sea.
notes i
took along the way
will show clear
and muggy beneath whiskered glass:
dirt has come
to take them away.
they will probably go
wherever
the pacific does,
but
somewhere on an island
most likely in the sun
stands somebody who
might read my starstruck words:
the backwashed, submerged, seasick ones
i wrote to you
which came out
of an abyss of affection
to travel across time to your heart
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