this glass of wine, like algae,
rests in the heart, like sea
water and salt. life giving and
life ending all at once.
the sky is clouded like usual
and for some reason, i have
i have forgotten how it
makes simple things gleam
like stars in the middle of the day.
now, the slightness of the afternoon
is like milky water, overcast
and incapable of anything pure
things are moving forward
as i am being drawn back–
like a string connected to the
middle of my body–pulling at me
as my legs struggle to make distance.
my ear hears a whisper, intent and
lingering, as my heart still screams
for things it does not know.
these eyes are salting over, shuddering
for blackness. widening despite the
colorlessness of milky texture.
i am trying to wade through stiffening sand.
through rough footed waters.
feet breaking on sated rock.
hands clasping around drifting sand.