Project: Inkwell Poets Society

if you stand between me and the shore, i shall never get wet.

i will never feel the sand pulse under my feet.

i will never allow the sea breeze to treat my face like a wounded animal

and hold it tenderly in its hand

i will say goodbye to the tide pools,

and the deep sea societies i’ll never meet,

because in your wake there is a heart shaped island

that is lost in an apartment complex of Green Rooms

and instrumental crescendos that flood and build homes of their own

in the stone they eroded.

the tide pools will dry up, leaving the fish in crosswalks,

the coral in coffee shops, the seaweed wrapped around sushi rice.

it all recycles, whether i touch the sea or not.

the waves crash against packed sand regardless of if you watch them or

leave them behind. water rises and falls, burying shells and unearthing treasures.

the salt lingers on my face like a good kiss,

the Green Paint drying on my clothes as your heart pulses beneath my ear

to the tune of a soft wind

beckoning me to sleep.