Stiff air on the dregs of summer
Salt that burns as I swallow
Fills what is hollow,
Yet never satisfies.
A bitter current rips
through the sea and
Carves her hips,
Her cheeks and fingertips,
And neglects to chisel me.
All I can see
In those sea-glass eyes is
A horizon I have described
In verbal blueprints
A thousand times, yet
Still not perfectly.
My fears outweighed
By undetermined melody,
I am redefined
By trench and by tide
And by my own adjectives.
I am tangled in seaweed,
Needing to break free,
But tugged by the current indefinitely.
Opposing motions,
Deep sea serendipity.
I cannot breathe here,
Suffocated by memories
That contradict.
And I fear
The final verdict but
Am unable to disagree.
Walls of sand surround,
Constructed by inconsistency
Yet I still stand—
I drift but do not drown,
My feet unsteady beneath me,
For I am lost at sea.
