The Ocean Walks the Aisle
The ocean walks the aisle
Marries the sand underneath my feet
A thirsting ankle for what’s heel deep.
Foam confetti sands the in-between
my wriggling toes. The stinging friction
craning the big one skyward— sloping
to where the sun once was― anchored
by the remaindered four. A blackening horizon
drowns the half suspended fiery oblate coal,
palates the infinite blue canvas. With cacophonies
With hues: purple, oranges, darks and blues
The clouds give in, light pouring from a halo.
A gentle wind strings the coconut leaves behind me
The chilling rattle that whispers─ it’s time.
My head turns to both ends of the white sands
To the fragments of a memory once whole
The inhabitants scattered. Planted. Going about
their little lives. Like there never will be another
tomorrow. Time passes through my static existence.
The stanza of the unprecedented everyday, limping
In a jumbled-up lexicon to my dyslexic impregnable cranium
As if everyone but me knows. What it is to be
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