Tag: sea

lines from the world above 
break the surface of the sky and
shatter into a million stars. 

the north star is a lie.  
it’s a death trap; it will 
hook you, it will make you
bleed. 

don’t you ever wonder where
everyone has gone?
following stars that promise
them something beyond return; 
stars that throw your children’s 
entrails back into the sea. 

soon there will be nothing
but sandy bottoms. 
killing is what will kill us, 
eventually. 
and we will only know this
when it becomes too late.

a letter to the blue fin tuna // a.s.m

I’ve always had strong sea legs and 
a need for perpetual motion.
When I was young I’d stand at the edge
of my father’s boat
and let the waves sway me as they
kissed the hull. The ocean’s child,
she’d rock me to sleep
with sea foam kisses and promises
of serenity.

And when I walked
on the solid ground that
nailed my feet into this planet like a crucifix,
I’d hear no promises of the ocean’s serenity.
I’d put my ear to sea shells just to hear her
whispers, but
I could no longer fall asleep at night, no
matter how much
I rocked myself to and fro.

But last night, as I lay
my ear to your chest, I heard
promises of peace
in the ebb and flow of
your breath. I saw the calm to come
after the storm I have become, and I think
I’ve been waiting my whole life for the ocean
to find me through you.
The way you hold me and rock me like
the waves do;
after years of insomnia, I finally fell asleep.

i’ve been waiting my whole life for the ocean to find me through you. // a.s.m