YOU ARE READING

Albeit flawed,

Poezja

I was basking under the sun-the waves muffle the sound of my breathing; and I bury myself with cautionary confidence in the sand and with it the memory of your four faces. How can something lethal be life-restorative?

#poetry

thirty-five

1 0 0

by axxwinterbourne

by axxwinterbourne

I can't assure you

that the storm

will pass overnight

but I can be a shelter

if you want to wait

it through

I am not a picture

frame that lasts

for life—I am the

memory it had tried

to preserve

I can hardly be

remembered but I hope

you will not forget me