The Burden of Water

The Burden of Water i remember… outside i waited while a truck slowly emptied garbage i leaned against the paper shop the roughcast felt like small mountains behind my fingers and the smell of the sea… a vehicle of longing ever since from the corner she skipped, danced under the streetlights before the sun came up the waves rolled in and then the scent of warm bread from hotels sat above the rock face where waistcoats set tables and poured tea she walked and stared matching glance with step nothing to say and i felt her warm fingers clasp with mine where welcome moisture cooled on my skin she led me to the small cliffs cut by rushing white water jagged, black and treacherous murderous she removed her clothes prepubescent swells upon her chest and the softest placid contours of her waist a vision that watered roots in my soles implanting me in the landscape she spun, bare foot i could hear debussy’s reverie and i breathed with weight she dived i watched her swim on her back the cold water swirled around her tiny body elation sat on her cheeks as she looked to me hopeful but i could not and still can not.