Blood in The Bay

Do you remember The Bay?

It was cold and green and kind.

I have not swam in It

for a hundred years.

I was always floating

in that Bay.  It was always

underneath me.

I like to believe It might remember me

if I went back again.


I bled into It that one summer.

You sang to me.

We loved each other then.

Do I have to bleed

to bring you back again?


You have not come home

since I wrote to you.

There are letters

that are never meant

to be sent.

What are you looking for?