Let Me Be-Sandy Beach

91 words that make you feel like a full and blooming flower.

Ethereal

Fresh

Dewy

Soft

Running out of words like

An Olympic track athlete running from the nightmares of a broken childhood.

Haunted by the angry parent that ate and ate until they were filling up with what was once the child’s dream and hope, morphing into anger.

A stop-sign with eight edges

Like a Gemini with many different sides- always rotating.

The only way you can tell which side they’re on is by looking at the word doʇs

You’re stuck in the back of my throat.

I am not a poet.

I am nothing but sand, sifting between hands.

I am not a poet.

I only feel like one.

Don’t let my glass skin deceive you.

You are not a dream and we do not taste like salt.

But I trip over my tongue with a salty uncertainty.

Flood me with your agony. I can take it.

Allow me to be your vessel.

Flood me with your snow.

I am the sun now.