You bare your teeth to the pavement,
And a heavy throat rumbles
Like jagged thunder.
It’s not yet time for the fireflies,
So you are left with chewed fingernails,
Coffee kisses and limestone skin.
The Moon is calling you,
Because you are a tide,
Slowly spreading your cerulean
Towards the edge of creation,
Only to be pulled back, back,
Back into the shifting brine.