poem, poems, poetry, writing

As easy as it was to tell black from white,

With the more minute details I cannot be sure,

Can’t distinguish between reds and greens

Just gradients of light.

The lines hold the boundaries of our soul

Ink soaking into the paper like an engine burning coal.

The Pacific Railway running up my spine

Like the cracked shores of the Isles of Shoals.

He said stay

She said O.K.

Sleep deprived but satisfied,

They watched the tide

And the ships passing in the night.


One if by land

Two if by sea.

Come to me and I’ll tell you what I see.

I believe we can burn through infinity

So pack extra luggage.

Seasons changed as they sat on the edge of the coast.

Their blood froze and thawed, experiencing death and rebirth

Without a single change in scenery.

Rebirth like the leaves mimicking

The tricks of the phoenix.

A birth through ash

A death through the spending of cash.

She whispered in his ear

Do not fear but the end is near

I am here and sober enough to steer.

He replied, what if I told you

Eternity is right here?


She wrapped her feet in seaweed

And pulled herself undertow

The eroding shores

And sand sliding through the hourglass.

The story goes that Mary Magdalene

Sells seashells by the seashore.

The unconsummated bride who

Died alone and poor.


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