Red Flag

Before each day,

my left sleeve conceals more

of my arm like a high tide.

Hiding the cherry stained

waves from every lifeguard.

The crudely sharpened shark fins

danced, below those pure white clouds

with their olive accents, leaving the wounding

waves of reddened water.

As the moon falls,

The tide rises,

concealing the mauled flesh,

and waves of reddened water.