The waves are breaking,
something under the surface isn't right.
I'm watching from the shore
as words pour out my mouth.
Relax.
I've been holding my breath
for five years.
Open me up, unravel me.
My thoughts are a pool in the sand
ravaged by the tide.
There's a spark, but no flame.
And tomorrow's just another day
collecting salt.
Saturday, April 22, 2023
brine.
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