The sea unfastens itself,
spills open over stone.
I cast my grief into the foam,
watch it unravel,
then return.
The wind moves without purpose,
pulling at things already broken.
Memory, a thread stretched thin,
still refuses to let go.
The fire took your name,
spoke it once, then turned to ash.
But even in ruin,
something lingers,
something waits.
I call the water to take it all,
to wash clean what the light exposes.
But the ocean is a keeper,
a quiet mouth that never forgets.
Regret drifts beyond reach,
splintered, sinking,
too heavy to lift,
too distant to call back.
And you—
a breath, an absence,
a shape the tide cannot hold.
I step past the harbor’s edge,
and walk into what remains.
Oh what a week and what a day, so glad to finally be heading home from work really need to unwind. I'm just sharing this last few words I wrote... when I get home I'll try to write about my experience of the day but right now I'm still under shock and unable to write...