If you could find me. If you could see
beyond this wave of words, raise your retinas
through tide pools into white, into the
disappearance of clam and current, to an
aftershock. If you could visualize a heart
pumping sand between your toes, its pulse
interlocking your pulse, the way the extinct
horizon beckons for texture. But your words
stir me. Your words replace the cloudy skies with
clouds rising through the whitecaps; you dunked
the cirrus underwater, wispy drownings. Your words
replace scaled fish with waves of oily matter, dancing
salt and the fish, now naked, begging for breath.
There is no language to be spoken
in the underwater moonlight.
Peter LaBerge is an emerging poet and fiction writer currently in his junior year of high school. He was the runner-up for the 2011 Elizabeth Bishop Prize in Verse, and his poetry was recognized in the 2011 Scholastic Art & Writing Awards. His work has been featured in a variety of print and online publications, including The Blue Pencil Online, Polyphony H.S., The Claremont Review, Burnt Bridge, Leaf Garden, and Bluestem Magazine. He founded The Adroit Journal (www.adroit.co.nr), and is currently working on his debut full-length collection of works.
