My new beauty is pale green.
Or I think I saw the walls were.
That soft hue, the shade of
crushed eucalyptus
diluted with mint.
Let’s make a candle of this
moment and burn it until
our eyes water, the color
of sea. The color of deep
rain. Yesterday, I met a cat
I did not know. I wasn’t sure
of her until she ran her full
body into me, crashed into
my leg like a wave. Like a
shipwreck. And when we got
free, she turned over on her
tummy and I was impaled
by the pierce of her pale
green eyes, a trident against
the dusk blue smoke of her
fur, lightest at the bottom.
What a flash of color for
anyone watching this fire fall
from gravity. Ash rising.
I’ve cut through water
just to be here. Slices
of ocean, of river
like rocks all around me.
The current keeps crashing.
My hands wet with the endless
liquid inside me as I open them
to ask again for forgiveness,
for beauty, even as I turn
toward the sea.