black,
crested with water
beneath my sinking feet,
the sky is a shaking grey
filled with
fumes
from a saltwater tide;
while the sun lays a hollow,
swollen bleed
above my shut eyes.

i can taste the ocean,
i can hear the rising breaths
before they flow from up her lungs.
and in that moment,
the briefest, most fragile moment,
before her hands touch my skin,
I think i feel your ghost,
creeping up and soaking in.

her body wraps around my toes,
as the silence brings your voice.
harsh, in the wind,
i realize that you aren't gone,
you've embedded your soul into the
crisp blackness of her.
and so I breathe.
I swallow the air.
because no one really dies,
they just find something else to live
through.