I spent the month of November living in the spine of a whale that washed up on shore
The only thing that kept me sane was the sound of the waves rolling across the beach
And only because it sounded like my fingers trailing across your bare skin or your lips against mine
I kept a fire burning just to stay warm
It laughed at me the whole time I sat across from it shivering
And it reminded me of how you would always laugh at me when I couldn’t keep myself from shaking
I hope your muscles are thinning out and the tremors haunt you now
There was an old lighthouse a few miles up the shore where I spent most of my time
I think the light at the top had a faulty connection somewhere
Because it flickered off and on at what seemed like irregular intervals
Truth is it reminded me of the way you used to smile at me
There must be a faulty connection somewhere among your synapses too
*~W.C.