If I could be,
I'd be a summer to see you
belly-down, bloated in
the salted sea---
To coast over foam,
to relish in the metaphor of currents
and waves,
send children to wade
in your filth,
confuse your fingernails
for shells collecting
in the sand to make
a trinket of clawing,
the invisible struggle.
No comments:
Post a Comment