write night

I feel a marathon coming, a need coming. We are so tidal, pulling and pushing, our waves rolling around the sand in our toes uncovering shells and weeds and treasure. By morning we wash it ashore like naked babies crying, just born. The things inside of us revealed – we knew they were there all along, we just couldn’t see their faces.

Tonight I will turn the lights low, cover myself in blankets, disregard the mess of my house, block out all the images of this world and set out my boat for another.

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