surges and tides

terrible like salt or tears

its wake of foam and fears

suspended in the gelatinous seas


and that’s how you found me –


my skin peeled back

as though we had forever

as though we would be together

as though the sweet pain of newness

would clamp its hot, tender hand over mine

and my skin would smooth over


but after the dream was over you found me –


like water left behind

in one tide pool after another

kelp and brine and

driftwood intertwined

the occasional shell

soft pulp peeled back

and smoother than skin


still craving

the memory of those tides

my empty arms and impervious surge

suspended in my gelatinous nights



Susan Smith Nash

February 16, 2002