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Dec 2014
wondering what dry land smells like
salty water rushing round my knees
rolling tendrils down my cheeks
heaving and hauling buckets of your smile
off the rotting decks, into the black water
praying that the visions will diffuse like mist in the sea
but they flow like siren songs through me

quietly taking the toll that I paid
blizzard of soft charcoal feathers swirling against the clouds,
rolling hills and a daisy behind my ear
sloshing buckets of needles
waves of torment,
writhing, possessed torment
breathless in a sunrise I don't want to see
praying there were gods and heavens
that would save this sinking ship
Written by
   Connor Ruther
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