Jennie Yoder: *

T O T E M

And this is how I found you--: you stare across the ocean; outside of a yellow room; her back curves into the waves; her eyes glow from beach glass; seaweed tresses caress your ankles; you taste only of blisters; my eyes water at you; burning a featureless white
When I extend my arm of water
will you reach me
or can your hands sing only of her memory?

I glide across your face unseen
and follow the moon to a home
exposed on three sides.