body

what i pick up in the ocean

a rosette it was       in the blue       and the sounds

of sea slop from the scuttle       blue

i said       it was blue

and your tongue was a

sheriff's turned ninja star       i know you

cannot eat for your frame has rusted       weakened for love

stronger by lust       but the ship has sailed

your backstroke was never your best stroke       i should know

you have painted your words on my lids       i see through them onto those runes

but they escape my glued look        drift off

through that silver trellis and morph into rosettes of blue

and the far off sounds of sea slop in the blue scuttle

seasofme 210416parallaxis