usnea

the yarn of a homemade doll’s hair in my child’s hands, i’m sitting in my grandmother’s screened-in porch, learning to braid. crouched next to me revealing the secret of braiding, she guides me -- 

anyway.

anyway,

remember the time we didn’t stay in bed all day? the air outside wasn’t cool, breathing through the lace of the curtains.

the blankets weren’t so warm and enveloping, just right. we didn’t pull into each others bodies, burrowing into the cocoon of here we are this is it // hold me and i will hold you.

we didn’t let the chill of morning pass by without heed, listening only to the wind inside. the wind of our breath exchanging homes, my chest to yours.

we didn’t lie here forgetting how much it hurt, we didn’t pull perfectly into the shape of each other's curve. we didn’t slip seamlessly along the smoothness of sleep-skin.

we didn’t hold like, i will protect you and you will protect me.

darling,

we didn’t.

and i am outside, cold morning. walking away, my feet two separate beings, carrying me through the dark of blue dawn alone.

shhh remember my hands are laced with rosemary rubbed together to stimulate remembrance to stimulate your presence

trying to swallow the ache

“be like melting snow

the ocean is larger than anything i could remember its fingers skip truth into the waves

***

she skipped the stones of my heart over the white-capped eyelashes of the bay

today the ocean burnt feet cold 

fingers crushed bay berries and traced 

moss

tongue slipped between silent and 

tilling fingers through the gravel of solitude