Jealousy burns; seethes through my chest.
Seeping into the hollow of my stomach,
it runs a gauntlet through my breasts,
piled high but grafted to thin bones.
I whittle away, because you’re almost here, but just about gone.
I must learn to sing euphorically;
to jelly roll into the sea.
Water snatches at discarded ropes and crab pots.
You circle awkwardly like a drunk shark,
a sea crown jammed on your head.
Hills roll into the water,
you turn into driftwood,
light scratches at the gap between the door and the floor
and I taste the opening of the earth.