all the copper strands
tide out and the length uncovered
eddies, spirals, no kind of sense

diving below the kelp forest
everything slows
breath in, breath out
eye on the regulator

people are a tide, heave and release

I knew a man with copper hair
rain on the skin, intoxicant
he made no sense
(wastrel, he said of himself)
I used to go for that

damn good looking, strummed 
steel string guitar, strolling the living room
while I lay on the floor looking up

but let’s step back from that particular cliff                        

kelp tops pop up like diver’s heads
cold current, blue lips
the ebb and flow 
unstoppable