Hold Her Together

water sparkling like my tongue stuck out in the midday sun bright,

you hold the sun and the trees and my gaze just right,
like that little thing you do that seems the stars have flipped, reversed, and tricked into reflecting
the brightness of night.

and speaking of the brightness of night-
how does she hold so much light?

water searching, water purging, water tasting, water wasting

my soul

with one quick blow to my head, making me realize that in all this beauty, I can't ever be dead.
In all this beauty my heart can pound like her force,
in all this beauty I could always feel worse,
but then I'd always feel better.
I ain't a sit-around-and-feel-sorry-for-herself-kinda-women,
my momma says I'm a
go-
get-
her.
soul back from the depths of the ocean in which it has plunged,
and stich that nebula explosion with slits from the sun,
sew the sides up with fur from otters' back,

tighten the lose ends with strings of a million womens' songs,
adorn her with all of abalones' shimmer,
and pull her hair up with eagles' glimmer,
fill in the holes with
patches of earth,
and bind her together with all of the worth
of
the ocean.