this morning in st. augustine

the cicadas orchestrate

a song buried in my throat

vibrates in my chest

my brow sweats

my hands

my thighs

and i

inhale as their violins swell

exhale as they come to a whisper

you belong here 

the earth, heaving

flowing

spinning

the sky’s never light, you know

it’s just the sun hitting it

we’re sitting by the ocean

embraced by the morning

the air sticking to our skin

salt and dew

i watch the tide step away from us— 

moonwalk—

get lost in thought wondering

how my body of water— 

70% they say— 

might be ebbing and flowing on the inside too

and everything is alive