| Make me the ocean. Make me lap with nuzzling thirst and froth like a glimpse of a mermaid's tail upon the surface, undulating, breaking, hissing my deep secrets into tidal caves. Make me pound and pound over this land, slapping at rocks that imagine themselves as new shapes, until I make it so. Make me drench you. Watch the calcium moon bring strength to my liquid bones. Soon, she will make me retreat. But I will return and the moon on her spongy bed will smile upon us. Dip in. Anna Russell |
Enough
3 months ago
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