Salty Smoke and Mirrors

Where am I

when wishing my feel and feet away

on a stray;      locked in?

Time rolls on a tide:

in the angst of unforgiveness

physical overlay of bleak memories inhibit -inhabit the cells.

A desire to be more

To be Better         Stronger        Clearer

– or whatever-   Other

Nostalgia grips

by the ribcage

and cracks it open to the sandstorm of the past.

Sands gritting pumping tearing

the lining of the blood

beating into exposed lungs.

Sea drought to the bone.

Quick; distract tears with an ice-cream cone.

Salty Smoke and Mirrors.


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