Sand And Legs

By Charlotte Eulette

On this lost and found afternoon
sitting seaside
her outstretched legs
are the same color as the ocean sand, a few feet away.

Her ankles and shins are the dunes.
Her cocoa knees are the mountains.
Just beyond the space between her inlet legs are the rivers and

The estuary is her shadowy woman’s nest.
Her navel is the center of the world.
Her breasts are cloudy volcanoes.
Her throat and neck command the thunder and the wind.
Her lips are every oasis.
Her tongue tastes salted sky and earth.
Her eyes we know are the moon and the sun.
Her nose the caves, the ones we see and the ones we don’t.
Her ears are conch shells making poems spiral deeply,
deciphering the inner-standing of this all. The spray of the ocean is cool on her fontanelle crown.
She sits and everything sits with her.
She tosses her hair mid-air making trees,
plants and even seaweed sway.
It’s there with legs and sand, and sand and legs.

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