The oceans have gone dry. There is no water left

for me to pull across the shore like a blanket. All

the coral of the ocean long bleached and rotted,

bare bone castles to hubris. It’s funny, how you

pretend not to care. Keep licking your dry lips

with your dry tongue and looking up at me, like light

alone is a promise, like you can get here and strip

mine me.


Everyone who has walked on my face has said

that the earth looks so small from here. If they saw

what I see, they’d know how big it is.