low tide,
you commanded

so I would have a more
peaceful place to sit
rest my bones,
rest my book of God notes,
my persistent phone and
brassy throat.
gain some inner stillness;
a hushed wisdom about it all.
I need the roar
of everything
always coming back
still close.
I show you the ocean, and
you show me a light above

letting go.

“boys who are moons”

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