• mikestyles 9w

    there are days when
    you throw yourself
    into the ocean

    and land on
    sharp edged
    salt crusted rocks

    the undertow takes
    your broken body and
    sweeps you away,

    and the real work begins

    you hold your head high
    above the water and breathe
    the salt air-swim hard

    along the shore, pulling
    until at last you tear free
    and drag your body onto
    the shifting remains

    you lie silent, smooth
    as a wave worn pebble

    And the waves gently
    advance and recede
    lapping your skin

    you breathe in
    you breathe out