The sky always boasts to the ocean;
about how vaster it is,
and how it holds heavenly bodies as
opposed to transitory creatures.
How its colour is in charge of the
ocean’s pigment
and how the ocean changes
when the sky changes.
But the sky is aloof
to whatever the ocean is doing.
“My heart is the moon, and the moon is in charge of your pulse: the tide,” the sky crowed one day.
But every night, the sky becomes heavy
with its own solitary grief.
It weeps to the ocean,
and so it rains.
Jun 23, 2020
Jun 23, 2020 at 2:10 PM UTC
The sky always boasts to the ocean;
about how vaster it is,
and how it holds heavenly bodies as
opposed to transitory creatures.
How its colour is in charge of the
ocean’s pigment
and how the ocean changes
when the sky changes.
But the sky is aloof
to whatever the ocean is doing.
“My heart is the moon, and the moon is in charge of your pulse: the tide,” the sky crowed one day.
But every night, the sky becomes heavy
with its own solitary grief.
It weeps to the ocean,
and so it rains.
