i look at you and hear guitars strumming in my head
a thousand at once, you know, rising up like the
crashing of atlantic waves
violent, silver, dark as blood but not the right color
at all, they don't care what you think
but they can tell what you're feeling so when the
storm recedes and the sea grows suddenly calm,
you are forced to look it in the eye and
say that you're okay
i will be on the sand and i will
know that you are not
death of z