under the moon of a severe weather announcement, wisconsin, 2024

 i recall a memory, which is to say, 

i summon myself back

here is the ocean before me, rustling in wet

wind---it howls. 

every nude beach, every California cliche,

every acid trip that ends with buried shit & revelations

here it is, agape

(no circle worries for the feeling of it's potential end)

you are also there, agape, eyes transfixed 

to this mumbling, kaleidoscopic sand.

i am a wet thing: seagrass, kelp;

i'm a terrestrial unmoored

when i speak to the sea, it replies