on an evening when I’d string together whispers
little beats from the sleepy hearts
and I’d find comfort in the gaps between
the places I could store a sigh or two
my glass hiding spots
and there is a constant loneliness
in feeling no roots beneath you
no tie to the bones in your fingers
some day I will live by the ocean
so maybe then I can feel an impression
of something forever pulling me closer
a salted embrace