Sunday, April 8, 2012

In the waves.

Nobody can say, "I must," before the waves.

You are free.

This translucent ocean before you is free,
Its decisions and color,

Its frenzies of prehistory

Are free.

Your genetics and memory steep in vaults of black tea.

Tour tongue has tasted to be there,
Your arms have swam to stay afloat.

Such a reward, saline and crippling.

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