I Must Have Separated From My Background
for now I am walking, dunes moving upon me,
the pier pushing farther into the ocean,
beneath black cormorants so simultaneous
as to be my perfect curtains. Engorged sea,
I wonder about your crackling,
then for days I am sheepish,
but I am never entirely without
your oval, or the injured animals
you allow, they turn to branches in my eyes.
Am I closer? All around me
flowers lose control of their petals.
Someone must hold onto the yellow,
I fear my eating developed the carcass.
Even in this thought there is water.
