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
to 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…


here’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

Author's Notes/Comments: 


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