a shallow impression
made on a surface both more and less pliable
than it used to be
than it should have been
smooth until the first crack of sunlight

other tools, they hammer, they bruise
but this shallow pool remains
the only indentation, sole crater on the moon
visible only to the touch and
never in the dark

an elbow on my leg
green eyes looking up
his skin is warm from a sun somewhere
and mine is cool from the sea
shaking with inevitability and the thought of altering course
a sticky thought, dipped in the rum
we found in the dinghy
the bright morning light dripping into the cracks, widening, deepening

The Who on a loop, seeking, seeking
a small indentation, salt water rushing in
too deep to stand in but not enough to sink
if only I knew how to float

there I am
lying in the rocking waves
with nothing but a boat
and a shallow impression filled with the sea

what have I done?

you tried to burn it and

burn it you did but

it didn’t disappear

it only dissipated

fire to ash, fell to the earth

but smoke to air, now it’s everywhere

you thought this was better

you thought this would work

fire to ash and smoke to air

but now it’s everywhere you look

and you can’t even see it.