The sharp-toothed cliff stretched on endlessly
below me, as I stared down upon waves in throes.
Crashing into the jagged embrace relentlessly
sliced across the rocks in dripping repose.
Each new crest broke from the howling sea and
felt infinitely far away the moment it was struck apart,
the swells rising up, for the briefest moment,
seemed to crash in tandem with the beat of my heart.
It felt like I was sinking. And floating. In a breeze
of acute warmth from autumn's breath — grasping
in a way that left me lost somewhere between her and me.
Nothing, in this light I woke up in, felt lasting.
And I wonder, if through all of their thrashing, each wave
will die down to be swallowed. In a deep, dark, grave.
I'm not confidently happy with it. I'll reread it.