the crab bakes it's salt
on a rock littered shore.
bashed through,
cracked, and bleeding brine.
waves roll and guts run before
eyes that are having
their first taste of either.
those baby blues watching
something die for the first time
feel nothing.
they look to the sea,
bored with life and death.
there are empires to build.
Dec 5, 2018
Dec 5, 2018 at 11:32 PM UTC
the crab bakes it's salt
on a rock littered shore.
bashed through,
cracked, and bleeding brine.
waves roll and guts run before
eyes that are having
their first taste of either.
those baby blues watching
something die for the first time
feel nothing.
they look to the sea,
bored with life and death.
there are empires to build.
