You squint the way one eye still aches

You squint the way one eye still aches
was shaped by rising water
as it flattens out in the silence

that wants you to make good
without asking why or what for
–it’s how moonlight works, half

disguised as tears to soften the ground
half as a sea that long ago left
all these bottom stones uncovered

as the mist where their breath used to be
–somebody owes them all something
though you come by to pay down one

that still has its arms around you
is pulling you closer to shore
by wiping the foam from your lips

–you darken the Earth to get a better look
and with child-like fingers count out loud
the letters in her name.