My Bones
My bones is worried sick.
I sleep with my clothes on. 
Full moons polish my skin 
white. I close my eyes.
If I could dream no
one would be alone.
 
My Love’s Ears
My love’s ears are sea
shells. Ocean swells of our bodies
sway the long kelp gently in their green
beds, long brown hair, her body the color
of sand, smooth as sanded driftwood. The tides


we are the tides moving the oceans 
in and out of estuaries and bays 
exposing each and then covering the other.
No moon today, bright sun, a school 
of fish swim between us
and are trapped in the nettings of our bodies.