A Rose Thrown out to Sea




you were petals i once
submerged — a fistful i let
go of under a foggy sea
when i was succumbing
to myself



you were the surface tension
screaming my name;
a diaphragm’s lullaby —
old thunder in the rain…



i’ve been fond of storms
ever since






no one told me
how slow clouds would be —
i would have held my
breath a bit longer…



charted constellations
a bit better before
i spoke of love in light-years



and there you were
on a shoreline,
carrying salt in your palms





how many times
will I walk here, —
a wreckage of bramble
in my side?



“the sea is much too old,”
i heard someone say…



and the wind was salt
on my brain



it left a hole;
a stain,
and i felt a burning
behind my soggy



can stars erode
in the tide?






night adorns it’s veil —
scallops tug at the lace



and i toss inky petals
in the sea



nocturne’s dreamboat
a dead man’s float; —
how i’ve internalized
my hatred for romance



“the sea is much too old,”
i heard someone say…



and i realized my
lungs could speak
for days about sunken
ships returning home






i ignore a
distant moon  — inertia
rocking my cradle



but she stays there
all the same…



there’s stardust
on her breath — whiskey
on mine



“you’ve grown much too old,”
i heard her say…



so i closed my eyes,
and felt sand between
my toes for the first time



it will be eons before
i swim here again

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