I have come to return
You to the sea, blue is all
Bone cracked bubbles
In the foam, why do I
Come back to this place?
Drifting the coast like an idle
Stone thrown in a childhood
Memory. The inscription reads
You And I, not as I know you now –
This sickness has claimed the
Weather in your palms.
The line of the horizon
Can only comfort me,
Could I drift on forever?
Dislodged from the seabed
To that point —
Sky tumbles
Into ocean
Into perfect
Stillness.
I must leave you here,
On Ward Eighteen.
The tide is strong now,
Driftwood lips draw a breath
Of mint green breeze on
Ward Eighteen
Mother to a father.
Sea like slate, sky all static
A look into your eyes,
Feedback static.
There are fig trees and factories 