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★
the trick is to cast the widest of nets.
to drag the salt of the tides over fresh
wounds, let it soften them into sea-glass.
the body writes new habits and lives in-
between, carrying the fire of melo
melo pearls in its oyster belly.
it fights the urge to snap shut when the wash
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of sunk cost fallacies assails the shore.
you can’t desire what you don’t contain:
birthstones. sea air. grains of sand. and every
white whale i’ve fish-hooked into a sonnet.
time is only precious when it’s bottled —
cast into intolerant breakers in
the hope it may just find its way ashore.
★
17.04.2024
[written for day fifteen of escapril — ‘beach’]
[full list of prompts available here]
