Thy blowing blue breakers sweep overboard, take color away from the faces of the men, washed in white walled foam and cyanotic sapphire speak novels in seconds no well placed punctuation such is the way of the sea
I'm searching the heavens for happy notes over sour tones and mis-pitched harmonies. As I stargaze, I'm trampled by depressive episodes and felonies.
Now, your bold bone breakers bring drought and salt but nothing savory here. Nothing ventured and nothing gained, streets washed of life, weeds, wear and tears the only water to be found wasted on self expression instead of survival. Such is the bane of our fathers.
Women's feet shuffled like playing cards and men's backs bare a striking resemblance - striking? stricken - to the laugh-lashed shaming of their own emotional dilapidation. And might your mind be free from weather and tears you have but to hear/see/smell the broken to become undone Like so many pages, dead dry leaves nestled inside leather-bound luxury with a broken spine. Thy mindless diction fixes namebrand problems to hot button topics, trafficked into pipelines down polluted broadcasts of girls girls girls...
Your voice bellows and breaks. We are nothing. Whatever color or shape you take, We are nothing. Whenever you go and whichever language you abuse, remember in your heart that we are nothing like you.
Women's feet shuffle on hardwoods bringing heart to the beat as men's whitewashed canvases carry the quintessence of quixotic movements in and about key changes the same as we paint our love around the fringes of each other and frame unfamiliar faces in lip-locked sepia blushing, brushing we carry the color of previous strokes until we are each our own historic hue staining others for future use in cobalt, mauve, maroon, chartreuse
We harness our pain in the alchemy of experience to create beauty.