When I look back at that breakup
That first one
The one that was almost
But not quite
I feel the cut again
That first one
The one that was almost
But not quite
I feel the cut again
Like paper
Cutting flesh
Like paper
Cutting flesh
I like the ocean best
A high overlook
With a hard onshore wind
Driving the breakers
Far onto shore
How does the physics do that?
Red tide of fire
Flash floods every morning
With the sun’s first rays
For him
Like a rising tide
They come
In ripples
All the better
In bunches
A sun hangs low and wan
Weakly luminous
Shadowless
Its light dispersed
By an atmosphere
Still, unmoving
Thick with particles
But every now and again
The sun shines through
For weeks, or months