April 16, 2016
North Fork Sound
Now in this past of a punched ticket
at low tide I drink down July sun.
Cathedral afternoon of canopy blue
in an endless awning sky;
Myself looking at the sealed plastic bag
of fiddler crabs as bait
thinking how hot and doomed it was inside
Now after the rituals were observed
and completed nude solitary on the beach
Walking as elderly on the thousand stones
toward the water
wanting into the cold salty stinging sound
Your balls drawn up into a hard sphere
The waves at you ass the erect nipples
the water licking everything in degrees at once.
The excitement from the prospect of entering her
as she enters you.
These ten years past her flesh now sea better yet sound
Under this sky, bright bare to the shoreline shoulder
I’m dunking. Going under. Full immersion. Opening my
eyes underneath. The pressure of the silence has its
tongue in my ear. I’m coming up for air. I push off
and explode in high white foam.
I look back on the beach
to see who is lying under the makeshift driftwood
lean-to as the Sound breeze chops the darker blue
waters white while fluttering the contour sheet
in animated penciled in ripples.
And I recall falling into your eyes that moment
and never looking down
still finding I never, ever hit the bottom.
Additional infoCharles Borzilleri flute
Sound realization Dan Berrggen
I'm busy working on my blog posts. Watch this space!
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