Take me to the water-
Let me drift, not sink-
The sun burning down
And my fingers dipped,
For every skin in this life
Becomes nicked, never bruised:
Each cut a deep red but shallow
Until I move, or they're caressed.
I'd like to think they're ripples,
If they never scarred.
And me safe, if new wounds
Never found me again.
And the scabs and beads of blood-
Red as the sun I allow to set,
They are nothing of the shores.