sometimes I am leaning against the rail
supported
while the wind in my face
weaves my hair in a net around my
head
and the moisture in the air,
veils lifting up from the ocean,
exposes the water and leaves me
cloaked
as I watch the bare truth
and he is standing just far enough
away
so that his presence doesn't
warm me
but he is cloaked and leaning
in similar vulnerable truth
his pleas reach toward my
shelter
sometimes I am open with the
sea
when it is deep enough not to be touched
by light
but his waters are too pulled
by currents of wind and sun and moon
and I close my doors in fear
of unprotected intimacy
exposed
another girl walks over to
him
she slips her hand into his arm
engulfed
and I am left with my cloak
that hid, in fear,
my heart
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