High Tide
Frivolous fervor,
you speak of love
but this indigenous
reverence,
this pistol of
charcoal lust;
engulfs the sea
and swallows the land.
I vow to the full moon,
the depths of blue
and crashing water
that this tide
will pass.
+Friday Jan 1 @ 05:05pm
tagged as: love. poetry. deep. writing. personal.
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