Glass Poetry Press

Volume Two Issue Two

Kirsten Hemmy

Hawai'i Ne

Steel drums & rhythm — your pulse into mine. Thighs. Brown eyes. Small, small lies. How about — ? — Yes, there. The story line is also the horizon, the sun's departure a green flash plunging into sea. Bodies no longer islands. Our voices the same. Whisper. Pidgin. Toes on the nose, ocean beneath. Veins hard, branches spreading, flowers, arms, legs. Rivers. Our breath is water, tropical skies. Mangoes. Music like tin roofs, rain, the quiet that comes. Surge of surf in the distance, crashing into sand, again, again, again.