9.19.07 3:20 A.M.

after a dream of us on a sinking ship


(and drawing thy mouth toward
my mouth,steer our lost bodies carefully downward) -- ee cummings

the ocean moves against
the moon's face

what are we now
but
floaters

your television but a distant star

our eyes covered by tongues of dark water

we sleep:
two silences
in the shape of one