Waves.

I wished I could unlatch his body from the prison

it had made of itself, later

a salty tear makes a claggy mess of his words and

something reaches from within that moment of vulnerability (a hand, crooked)

                  I wish I could take you with me

                  to the parallel universe where I live, right next to you

                  all the time (without suffering)

at least we both are sure that we exist right now, I think

it was the year she began to look for answers

in her own body, the mesh of hair trapped in spoke of hairbrush

she asks for directions in her forearm freckles

we were born equipped with maps

we have no idea how to read

she asks if she is deserving of this worthlessness

I say — no — I don’t know — I mean I know some things

like you are methodical and stable, and that is a good thing

you can walk long journeys with strong legs

you are assertive in the closed door faces of powerful men

and you

don’t need to raise your voice for everyone to listen

and to me, you are worth a great deal

I was born from your body and when you move

I am reminded of the salt that licks and tumbles

under the skin of waves

the salt that keeps us all from drowning.