don’t make waves

i had a dream
that i was a sailor,
all tanned limbs
and salty skin,
prue muscle and bone
without all the soft weakness.
i wore rope
around my wrist,
and silver ribbon in my
hair, long and light,
bleached by sun
and salt
and time.

i sailed around the world,
five six seventeen times
but i knew home
by the color of the water
when we sailed into port.
i knew home by you,
always waiting on the rocky shore,
all grey eyes and brown skin,
happy feet that loved the
firm ground
and happy hands
that loved me.

i dreamed
that i was a sailor,
and then, when i woke,
i found no crashing waves, no
sun on blue depths,
no further shore to set my sights on,
my arms pale, hair dark,
the earth steady
beneath my belly and feet,
wrists bare and thin
and
no happy hands
to sail home to.