I can't watch the sea for a
long time or what happens on the shore doesn't interest me any more
There were never more than one pair of hands emptying out the river and repacking the banks hiding from the fish the true way to the
ocean keeping in small wet
pockets the gathered silt and the shelf
the alert bricks broken down all the bricks placed in a semi circle and crushed the softened wood I know who you are I know just who you
are The hands that refill the waters
with water the fish that travel to
the river mouth then spiral then
return again The hands that
make a keel for the whole body upright
knifing itself on the cool water
the real blisters rising on the step
where the silver straps cross
The hands that part life from life
gather up wet sheets scoring in
the air the slipped sound of a last moon
falling up from a first breath
The hands that part life from life
pass a shade over the eyes the
bodies being too far away and
rigged No one made love like we did no
one ever possibly will holding our
wrists to the insides of our knees We
never matched the tracks of our veins
never held the water in our mouths
These hands never learned how to separate or join how the unheld grow taking off their clothes to wait for the
Spring how the mythed speak with the
voices of water a name next to a
triumph in the paper she
tore with her feet
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