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Where She Is

And as I rest

with my ear pressed

warm against the sand, I

am brought back

to a familiar dance,

to the drumbeat of waves

and her salty hair.


She sleeps inside the sea.

The same now as when I was a teen.

And here, spread out on her beach,

I am as close as I can be

without drowning.


And so I breathe

into the hot sand, breathing

as if my dream of her

might call her from the tides,

from the green currents

where dolphins dive.


For I would dance with her.

Here on this summer shore.

And with the wind,

I would write my name

in the sunlight of her eyes.


It would be for just one song,

for just one kiss with the eternal.

No, mermaid she is not.

That belongs to myth.

Her truth is

that we mortals keep dreaming—

at night the sailor singing

to his lady of the stars.

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