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in an open field, in the tall grass, he found Kate, panting after running,

he long ago misplaced her at sea, out on blue waters

where denial ruled the water and she was effortlessly out of grace,out of reach.

skimming the surface she never broke,

of the bright conch-filled waters


she, he, in the field of tall green grasses found each other after years in fallow seas

she lifted her half-shirt and they, walking, he lapped at her underbelly like a lakeshore wave,

for she and he looking intently,

gripped at tall stalks sporting dead grasshoppers dried well in the sun like raisins

and they lay in beds of locust shells.