at the mouth of the river
i am kin to the estuary
a body of built of water and salt and
a fluency in the liminal
what does it mean to be of
two waters & belong to neither
to be known for the bridge
your body makes of the
in-between
no land matches the ocean’s
command of this earth, so
i have found myself often
pulled into these waters
but the river speaks in
softer tones, carries a
current i find
similar to my own.
i spend my years spinning
an undertow of my own making,
a shadowed fear of choosing
one direction, only to live
with some part of me missing.
CarnivalDark 