[I would rather the Sea]

Something of boats and
Love, the unforgiving
fullness of both. My limbs
always flailing and
needy.
I would crave the sand--
want it fresh against
my skin, coarse granules
renewing me. I could
need a ship, sturdy
to and fro-- my legs
strong and ready.

But the Sea,
having it turn and turn, my
body cold and used. The Sea
brings me everywhere, it lets
me hear the swoosh
of the fish and
the smack of the clam.