forgettings

origins seep from tidal pools
and I tangle with seaweed,
a stinking inheritance washed smooth,
tumbled in waves of knowing

my tongue weeps 	
                             a sourness – 
violence cries
and dreams in languages I’ve never spoken

come home, the wind whispers,
and I imagine four walls and a door,
windows and a floor,
a deadbolt, dark curtains,
a roof sealed
              tight – 

pull deep, this horizon 
bones scattered along shores  

and I sink, swallow the ocean
my mouth filling quick
sand gritty with salt,
gasping at a trick of light.