revision

Antiope

I found a road that walks me to the sea,
and no one stops me. They know
my shame will keep me
from running.

I find a high rock to stare from—my heart
beats “distance, distance”, out
over the uninterruptible,
hushing waves.

But the nearer waters are so clear. How
can the water bear it? To be seen
straight through to her purple
spines, to every tossed
stone?