Like the licking of an old dog that insists you take her
for a walk
the insistent swell
laps your legs.
Off port, headlamps
slip by in an unending current
supplying the illusion of your
inevitable progress forward,
and little certainty you had ever been moored at all.
Dec 27, 2019
Dec 27, 2019 at 7:39 PM UTC
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