grant me permission to imagine tying
tiny kites at the end of each
of the thousands of your hair
i will think of you as anchor,
harbor to your kite fleet warring
with the continental winds;
i will have you stand knee deep
by the edge of an ocean
the waves will lap at your thighs.
your hands will cup around your mouth,
sea water brimming over your fingers;
i will not stop you, nor your dress,
from drinking your fill.
2018.feb.28
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