All Moments are Consumed by Thoughts


This is the name you were born with,
 only now, it crumbles and falls into 
 the water breaching at its heels.
Hello - you are the moans of a cruel
 sea, and the sand you crave fills
 the half-something glass in your ebb.
When did vacations start to consume
 small victories? Doesn't it matter 
 when the shore pushes you away?
Oceans are bound by name alone, and
 the ocean is no place to forget just how
 hard it is to wash the oil from your brow.
I want to fill this cup with sand and 
 water to take home, so I can settle
 down and find something in tomorrow.
Forlorn is the word which comes to mind,
 but sight remembers to wake me from such
 thoughts - the sea rolls in, the sea rolls out.


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