Leave Some Mark More Than Water

Yes, the sweet firm pressure of grasping
sees the outline of a face where property ends.
You landed, looked around, took samples with your fingers,
put them in jars.
There is a territory that welcomed you, invited you in;
mine which is yours, and yours,
that belongs to--

Mine.
I have searched the inky electronic wisps
of your personality, tried to establish
a correspondence.
Halted scents and words nowhere,
this land is fertile, it wants to please.
Careful what you leave there
and what you take away.
It sees how it feels things ought to be,
traces the tidal lines as they rise and fall.
You are lucky enough to be welcomed in,
and you, you should--

Yours.
If you have somewhere you have to be,
miles away, chairs to sit in, cars to pack,
grocery stores new promising,
buy someplace that's worth inhabiting.
This province will be imprinted;
watercolored, framed, gonna hang it on the line.
She floats deeper when it's fresh, not preserved
in your salty, fitful worries.
You see the flag firmly in the ground, but know that
you are wishful thinking,
if you think you've left some sort of--

Yes, exciting, isn't it? to live your life on the land?
Sure lines of bones, skin, earthy dust.
Say it, say it, ask for it, take a drink.
Just go far enough to find your way back and
land here, anywhere, divided pastures
that make a mile to the ocean.
Wander in a pattern you always wanted to learn
that can be followed, charted,
dreams and anchors.
Damp towels, toothbrush drips, deep sea divers
finding footing on the floor.