I look out over the crests
Undulating like the ribcage of a
Subterranean creature.
Breathing in, exhaling the spittle of brine
Caked onto my lips and eyelashes.
The sea is different today.
How it moves, wildly serenading me
With the forgotten
All of the things I have forgotten.
Pieces of me have fallen into these waves,
Cracks of skin like the chipped linoleum
On an old kitchen floor
Drop heavily onto the sand
Sink into the shells,
It weeps.
My vertebrae stretch ever so further
With each fragrant rush of salt air
And I recall those poems
That wafted from afar and came to a rest
On the tips of my fingers,
Like rosebuds that were *****
And shrunken dry with neglect
But beautiful in decay.
I watch the sea today and it is a startling
Stranglehold
As the sounds of the pouring ocean floor
Grip into me with razor teeth
I know
I have left too much of myself behind
In this very same spot.
Yet the emptiness that drifts within, and
The old self
Brushing against my ankles in the sand,
Like an abandoned blanket
Is reassuringly the most naked elegance
That flutters through my chest
And expands outward
Into the gray.