the ceiling dark and low
er than i remember as a boy
and those who dove so much smaller
but black bart still tickled my fears
and his heart still beat out haunts
as i crawled through his insides
on my way to grotto
behind the waterfall where you had
your first kiss
the mystery
now lost on me
the oily-food runs
not any more fun
my hands
are a boat
which sets sail
along the coastline
of your skin tracing
the contours of
every grain of
sand holding fast
against the welling
and swelling of the sea
coming to safe harbor
at the nape of your neck.
they sat in this room and thought up
the worst things that could happen,
and he followed him everywhere
like some stray cat with no tail
but with lots of tales
and question marks
so many it could block out the sun
some days
and he would distract him so much
it was hard to finish his sentences
there were just so many questions
and so many things that could happen
and of all the things that could happen
one of them would surely not be
his disappearance.
Hips turn and lock in
Sending hide well overhead
Bounding fielders
