Blackbirdan online journal of literature and the artsSpring 2011 v10n1

The Edge of the Sea

I mistake it for love
of loneliness, I think it’s coming knee-
buckled toward me, I slice it with
a hull’s dream, I stay true, I do not
eat any fish, I have such faith
in its wrecks, I dress it with wax wings,
jagged fuselage, I fall
for every trick, roll the undersound of my heart
in a wave, I throw back hermits, satellites,
throw back my lovers, I fly six times over that long stare,
forgive it for the laws of physics, I feel it
suck at my toes, spill it on my best dress explaining
my failures, I can barely live
through its night, those stars bright-black
drifting on God’s plate, all my hunger, and his hunger.  end