thin veils

I could pour myself out in paragraphs, uncovered creativity that breaths like a blossoming lotus at sunset.
Before you'd see my petals peeling back, and a tiny life inside opening it's brand new eyes.
Fresh breath.
You have to open your own first.

You feel the retrograde? Or just think it's the rising tides.
Mercury and her grip, head held high and she grins when you slip.
See her breathing in the cold air, sharp as knives, and snakes for hair.
By the time you see it, you've missed it.

Out of breath and a voice muffled by the waves, you never hear me calling.
Calling. Dial tone is dead.
This is where our connection led.
The water is deep, fluid, amniotic.
Reciprocate.

-Saree McClaran
Oct 25th 2013