Even before we get to our boat, let's review the moon
with Venus riding bareback, and how the clouds conspire so
to make it the only visible light. This is because the sky
remembers how we used to be, long after we have forgotten
our early shimmerings. And the lap-lap of the ocean
is a lullaby of currents that pull us in our rudderlessness.
Each pitch, roll and yaw are substitutes for our raw caress—
a memory of our hairs swaying with each touch like sea grass.
                 •
We ignored or took for granted all the birds with their white sky
bellies until they passed out of existence. Mist swirled around us, 
became our auras and we kept silence within ourselves, till only
the creak of wood and droplets of rain were our language. 
Now I cannot remember a single song.
Now we can discuss the boat of ourselves.

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J. P. Dancing Bear is co-editor of Verse Daily and Dream Horse Press. He is the author of several collections of poetry, most recently, Cephalopodic (Glass Lyre Press, 2015), and Love is a Burning Building (FutureCycle Press, 2014). His work has appeared in American Literary Review, Quarterly West, Crazyhorse, the DIAGRAM and many others.