know this

listen, you know how this is:
you look upon my skin crawling
with sunlight and you want it
to summon the moon's
embrace, cradle of the sea's deepest
secrets. i am
no master of subtleties yet
i can pick flowers and arrange them
into your poem.

perhaps you only see the distance
between us where i am
convinced we are the same
wave on opposing shores
of our mutual ocean, and
i confess that my heart
was last seen at sea, fishing
for lost scraps of light
the moon let go.

look, maybe you know this:
you look upon this skin of me
tattooed with sunshine and you want it
to transcribe the moonlight
so it rhymes with the sea
but i have only secret poems only
i can interpret but
if you plant a field of daisies i will
come and till your poem.