after a lovers' tryst on Nantucket...
|in between us
standing at the railing, as the sea beneath the stern is churning
she is shielding her eyes, from a thousand flashes
as the waves splinter the sunlight, she is turning
into the wind, to avoid a glimpse of my eyes
suddenly, the ferry lurches; she grabs the rail,
startled, as if she never believed the boat would leave;
her arm jerks in half a wave, retrieved; her eyes fail
to avoid their magnetic search; against her will, she turns and
would have me believe her heart is not churning like the sea
and as the ocean's edge opens between us,
a chasm growing like flesh slashed, ragged and rolling-
back, the bits and pieces of our time, bobbing in the churning froth,
both hearts bent-over the rail, and weeping, with the water seeping
in between us.