I will look for you in every life
the sea hands back to me,
the way the tide keeps returning
one drowned coin.
Salt in my mouth,
I would know you blind.
I miss you like water
refused in the throat of a squall:
all that ocean,
and not one swallow meant for me.
Your name stays in my mouth
like the last drop of rain
held by someone dying of thirst.
I do not speak it.
I keep it there,
because it is the only part of you
the sea has not taken.
The sea explains nothing.
It presses. It bites.
It keeps coming back
with its mouth full of weather,
until even the rock gives way,
and morning finds me there,
salt on my lips,
your name still alive in my mouth.