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.

+ 3 notes
Friday Jan 1 @ 05:05pm
tagged as: love. poetry. deep. writing. personal.

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