romenu
"salt-ritual of the bay"
"salt-ritual of the bay"
Tideglass and torn kelp bundle—
The children marked the hem of dusk with thumbprints
of salt on their foreheads. No chant, just breathing—
just the pink lungs of sea wind
carving hunger into the rocks.
An egret flinched sideways toward the margin,
white as a scrape of chalk on an old map.
Fishermen let their lines tangle. They believed
in knots over harpoons. The surf, meanwhile,
spoke only in bruises.
By the time the moon broke open its mouth,
the children were asleep.
One cradled a bone.
One dreamed of knives.
"archipelago, rehearsal"
"archipelago, rehearsal"
The pianist told her students to listen
not with their ears but with their ankles.
“Good fugue,” she said, “requires balance.”
So they gathered driftwood on the far side of the island
and played scales into the breeze—
sharp notes folded in shell fractures,
minor thirds trailing seafoam.
She sketched each student’s posture in charcoal.
One boy leaned always westward.
One girl played only in her sleep.
When the volcano finally sang,
no one fled. They waltzed.
Their shadows danced ahead of them like truths.