Poem for the Makatu

body language speaking
and body language screaming
trying to recall what we knew while we
were dreaming, remembering our hands
they were open in the sand
fingers counting five,
four, three, two,
one below, two above
one is watching two in love
two together, one apart
crashing rhythms, beating hearts
waves explode and tide pulls in
under water, under skin,
striving beating breathing yearning
waves that battle, earth
that's turning
counting on your fingers as they beat upon my chest
matching out our rhythm to the ocean swell and crest
counting five, four, three, two
one forgotten
two entangled, ocean's surf is silent strangle
bodies splayed like kelp
to dry, sweat and salt and tears they've cried
the falling tide is not denied
nights is lifting, stop pretending
never fully comprehending the galaxy the soul
collide, falling helpless side by side
hands together, fingers ten, counting over
and again ten, nine, eight and you wake
just to see the sun is rising and the seven seas
surviving and the six, five
foreign to us all is this desire and the dousing of the fire
and the three, two,
one is waking
then demanding, have they lost their understanding?
buried ocean black abyss
closing hearts and breaking fists
this body, it's a vessel and i'm taking out to sea
and the rythym that's dividing seperating
you and me is growing wider, and water
and what are we to do but cast our eyes away like anchors
watch eachother walk the plank
and see the tide is retreating, understand that it
was fleeting from the start.
But there again on the horizon, your silouhette is rising
waving me away into the wind:
five fingers waving five, four, three, two
one aboard
one beyond
one moving forward
on sailing on.