Sunrise tree


The tracks along the beach led to me
Until the sea washed over my feet.
At present they stop far short of
My disappearance, now in progress,
Feet first, as magic waves erase me.

Am I a turning point of water, or
Of invincible stars? A silver gull
Slides into my ribbage and exits
From my chest. I feel the undertows
Yearning against each other.

The sea casts itself across
The beach in fluid nets.
It fishes on the land,
The sea does—it wants us back.
My ankles vanish in the sand.
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