sandpaper sandpiper

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sandpaper sandpiper

it's rough i say,

rough. chasing this wave to ride

on apparitions of skin. the ocean had it fixed,

like usual. unlike my opposites, how we got

our names, i clean like clean will clean

it up. virgo is the name of the sky

sometimes. however like a fish

i am forever flapping around sacrificially

into the macro, feeding the micro

perfectly. will the piper

fit the sand with flawless feet & rhythm?

who chose the sand that stuck

to the paper? will it soften the right

edges, will it edge out the leftover

angles? these crevices are rough, i'd say,

just ask. these questions are rough, you say

by not answering.

you say sandpaper i say sandpiper

one is playing at the saline boundaries with abandon

one is softening surfaces of self houses with abrasion

but when i heard paper, i heard

promise, imagined sand in hair,

trips taken to the ocean and back,

no shoes, sun running. i imagined

dancing. actually, i heard

music.

i'd say, the sand is hot, you'd say

contradiction. not even

a pisces, you were taken in small

pieces and build into a body of mostly salt-

water. you simply brought sandpaper

and i packed for the beach. i was thinking

of places faraway and familiar, like

that look when first saying hello. go ahead,

i say, smooth away your old splinters.

go ahead, i sing, still a bird

pursuing an edge to keep me alive.

go ahead, i say, and you hear

scritch, scratch,

sandpaper. go away, you say,

and i hear

crash, splosh,

sandpiper.

4.7.12