9-3-17

when I ran
out of earth
at the end of
earth, there
was the sea. 
I was lonely. 
the sky wasn't 
blue. I thought
of you, who
entered the 
water's glass
and did not
return. they say
you were nude
because the 
salt hates
clothing. I thought
of you until
the bell- buoy 
clanged against
the tide's hand. 
the ripples are
old and indistinguishable
from all the other
ripples. the sorting,
the sound of
skipped stones,
it hurts. strange
how the world
is constantly
tossing things
into the sea
and the sea 
is not yet full.
​