fata morgana

one morning you will sense me 
now, slipping like air
        through your incisors and lower

lip. you might marvel at
the intrusion soft 
       sound makes, a separation of

flesh and bone for faint
diffusion. you must find it
       easier to distinguish ocean

from sky when there is mist
between, the sort that blunts
       the precipice of a stark horizon,

cuts across the seam where air 
meets water perpendicular,
       curdling light into expanses

of moist blossoms. when day breaks
you may follow the gulls with
       your vision and find me

adrift. then I shall leave you
cleft, the way a strait brings 
       a city down to its knees.

then again I might stray,
hovering forwards, just how a ship
       unmoored floats ashore