Fly-away strands of a carp moon,
Looked for in milk pools,
Lost as lettuce, sandwiched
Between grey bread and
Thick-spun sun, plastic sheet
Poked through and dotted with strawberries
Not ready to pick, underworld
white as the lanes we swam
In the dark, in the nude.
The olive gray of your bikini
A drab and determined
Crush, a smile that takes in others with
Uncertainty, that swims in heavy
Contrast to the flash and turn
As a soldier on kissed marble
Gravel exposing their position
With a footstep’s crunch
How we yearn for sand beneath the toes,
Absolution found in bluish shadow,
The brush away of an algae wash.