Inspired by time travel, ecological destruction, and unexpectedly chilly beach trips.
A tired poem in progress, which has been through turbulent and oddly fitting rounds of edits and near-abandonment. Still, though, it's hanging on to being alive, so I decided to leave it here for the world to see. It's been a busy few weeks.
sent to the end of the world
Time recoils like a ripcurrent
Dragging lines from my salty fingers
Oceans so resilient but die so fast
Blush pink coral and vein green weed
Quickly meet their saline funerals
No eulogy given. If there was one: just
Wave, current, sand, stone. I don’t even believe
Fish view death how we do
Like the river that flows singular
That drowned me
without regard for its allure, my desire
Now it is so cold it wrings my thoughts pale
Fear and confusion start to meld
air with sand tang.
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