I’m always trying to get to the ocean in dreams
as in childhood
like it’s a mother full of secrets
At low tide
I can only see a tiny fraction of the
complicated relationships
I need to learn
and respect
Waves like a comforting come hither
and I know I need to be in the water
I am assessing how to move my limbs
heavy with sleep and dread
The demand of a physical presence
vigilant senses
arms that won’t wrap all the way around
I am always so pleased
when it reveals just a little of itself
to me
thistle breath 