two sides of three coins

she's my ocean, deep and green
leaving kindling debris on my shore
she's my ocean, undertow
pulling me down to cities under seas
i am air for her fire
whistling consumed leaving ash in her mouth

in her mist-eyed reminiscence
is there special radiance for me
or just one in a string of discards
driven by a need to be bored
another cell in her prison memory
labeled the one from new york
gripping my most improved trophy