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The Ocean
by Angela ThomasI bind my feet under your legs, like they are those of a concubine
and you are the wraps that keep them from growing, instead I mold
my feet to fit your form and take on your characteristic warmth
as I am doing so. I ensnare my hands between your fingers, tree
branches that are caught up in a phone line, there is a current running
between us, some kind of electric power is both keeping me safe
and keeping me there. I warp my back to fit snuggly when I press
it against your body. I want to be a maliable peice of foam, with you
as as a plaster cast, keeping me in line and forming a perfect shape,
like a starfish sprawled out across the ocean floor, I am swimming in
you and learning how to move. 08/29/2004 Author's Note: this poem is very abstract. it just sorta turned out that way.
Posted on 08/29/2004
Copyright © 2026 Angela Thomas
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