from the horizon

there's a small piece of my aliveness
floating in the waters of Anakiwa

it's swimming around
looking for itself

it doesn't know where its whole is, but
it knows
that it is
Home.

it is torn between
all the things it loves, of which
there are
many -
too many, perhaps -
and found in various places,
moments, people:

nestled in the embrace of many beautiful arms,
sitting in the corners of many beautiful smiles

- and especially, in this moment, in the
slightly ochre cheekbones
of some ridiculous but successful
luring tactics
who I'd have happily stayed put for,
who neglected to remove the glitter from my eye

who was part of this week's opening,
heart-pouring
beside the ocean