I long for the sea.

 

This land is incessant, unceasing;

dirt and soil clings to ugly, blemished skin,

creeping under nail-beds of bitter and bloodied

wreckage. 

 

I tremble and quake and writhe and burn

in the toiling heat of the day-long sun, 

Quick! ––

 

absolve the catastrophe of this pitiful existence

and let me slink back into the brooding depths of the sea––

 

sleek-skinned and silver, slippery and speckled,

an enviable perfection of nature in the

foam of the fickle northern waves. 

 

Alas, one day.