open skies and storm clouds
flash of light. one, two, three
forearms swiping, spitting
eight feet in the seaweed
crabs on the sand running
climbing each other's back
one hungry family
riding on your shoulders
in that moment a strong
wind whips up the sails
delivers the poison
lips turn purple, blue, white
in the mist before the flood
upon the mud and sweat
my beloved always
earth, heaven
2011
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