i tossed the rolex into the ocean it’s gold band playing songs around rocks rather than my wrist
it’s hand signals sinking quick so i could watch now.

our beach is temporarily rich with sand dollars-
puzzle pieces of a bottle too shattered and smoothed nightly in an attempt to make safe what can’t be broomed away but watch now

and then when the air is patterned with enough salt to make mountain goats drunk on envy
they swing dance until I called to them to watch: now

the seagulls are spelling your name in shrieking crests off the waves and I guess this is the where all the tears went but maybe if you watched now

you’d see the spinning tides on kite strings of starlight tugged by the dimpled moon and
you’d know
these are not the same hands that
i watch now.