but we didn’t

we were allowed to languish
washed up on some distant shore
feeling our toes curl back
and then nothing

like a disease that works its way from inside
dripping down upon our forehead
second after second
moment after moment
hour after hour
and then


or at least a thought
a hope
a dream
that seconds and moments and hours
can turn into something other
into something refined

but still
not quickly enough

hoping to hear
to know
to recognize

and the waves slowly pass
breaking upon our the backs of our knees
until there is nothing but the silence
of the tide


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