I track the errant tides, irregular ebb and flow.
I open my mouth to suck
in water, I blow it back out, godlike,
salt residue on my lips. I am ravenous
for the wet breath of earth after spring
rains, the slip of cotton across my breasts.
I cannot let go. The moon blooms and thins.
My muscles grow lean, joints supple.
I know there are others—
corporeal, hungry, somewhere here,
this marsh or the next
or the next where the red wing
blackbird sings its liquid song and I do
not see it, I do not see it, but I hear it
and I know it is kin.
Published online June 26 2015.
Tamiko Beyer is the author of We Come Elemental (Alice James Books, 2013) and bough breaks (Meritage Press, 2011). She is the associate communications director at Corporate Accountability International where she harnesses the written word to challenge some of the most powerful and abusive corporations in the world.