peeling layers,
looking for cracks of light
to squeeze
ourselves into
and you saying will you
treat me like an oath
and I saying will you
nurse me like a wound
but they were rhetorical
that neither had
the answers to
anyway
—what I remember of us
YOU ARE READING
an ocean of teardrops
PoetryI avoid surfaces with reflections, avoid facing reality. At the sea, where I last washed away my scars only to have them appear in different places, different faces. And so I try comforting myself through imaginary conversations with the people I lo...
