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