hyperconciousness

go long hope
goes always
i pale at the sight of day.
gross enchantments in the groves,
suckling our bottles without words
to pass between our mouths, to weigh
as heavily as the sounds before dawn.

i was a girl once for a moment.
children are ships that sail away
once you have touched land. I am stranded.
come back for me, my legs aren't ready for these snapshots.
here everything is caught like fish,
sold and bought and eaten.
once i could swim through any storm set by my father,
and his weather was hostile, but the temperate reality
was a fairy tale. now i am still, where there are no storms
but i am the storm,
without sails to catch a breath
to carry me away.