Tea residue,
Glowflies, cashmere
Cliffside
See the torn cloth upon the rocks,
Splinters from the mast
Salt tears, salt blood, salt from trade
Broken china
Saffron
It's all salt and sand and blood, now
Washing up the beach in the night,
Shadows from the fire light
The jaws, they gnash

The hungry ocean, the cliff's teeth, the fire burning,

Whichever takes of me first
But I would choose the undertow
For blacking out without the air to breathe,
And lungs filled where nothing could sate the thirst
Of my greedy heart above, and my ugly stomach below