I hope to encompass the sea in my lungs
and develop a liking for the dark,
open wide and wash away repressed ideals
[while, somewhere a purer version of this life
charges the earth on high tide,
as his lips charge upon hers –
another gulp swallows them both].
I’ll lullaby to a constant and gentle roar
of continents whispering to one another,
cradled always by the arms of the earth,
fingers combing through my hair
in the manner of the one my memory pains to endure.
eyes closed now, think softly,
and take a deep breath.
(as published in Fall 2014’s issue of The Laughing Dog)