We tug, underwater,
let loose like red rags,
raise the white, then the black,
because the tide wants to drown –

Wants to pull you like a plaything,
like a child who can’t sleep
you tell the same stories with your hands
but they gnaw at your limbs.

When we hide them outside,
by trees to make homes with,
teach them how to make fire,
they set fire to it all.

The embers accelerate,
like one hand shaking another,
like one bone breaking another,
taking away my childhood home.

So one makes a raft out of branches,
the other a friend to keep me company,
and the black ocean pushes us along.


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