Out on the dock, bugs and condensation,
the swirling filled up air tumbling, rolling like black
clouds, everything rolling around you,
still and open
like a night flower.
You watch the water calmly, your eyes go dark as kelp.
You run your hand across the back of your head,
soft and elegant as a pelt,
emerged in your new short haircut,
like the first tear of rain streaking past your face.