He needs a sweater to keep warm;
can't sleep anymore on the beach
where the churches all gather--
he sleeps in the water.

The way the sky rose, it was like ice.
It grew from his ocean, bled upwards,
and in a moment of panic
he thought it bled from his guts.
Clutching at his stomach,
there were only beads of sweat
And kelp cooing at his chest.

The clatter of a bell wrenched stars
earthward, drawn to warmth like moths.
Searching for a temple (men, wild men!)
they found a girl with sand in her palms
who knew, only yesterday, the world
revolved.

She stretched her arms with abandon.
The boy couldn't hear this.
His ears were full of seawater, and her
body enclosed with men.

Eleven times the seagull cackled.
(The boy--the girl.)
The tree grew into an acorn.

10/10/2006

Author's Note: Edited November 23 The original assignment was juxtaposition. It's grown a bit larger since.

Posted on 10/10/2006
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