I can't vouch
myself to
more hurtings;
I just went
through what
anyone would
posit as
martyrdom ,
cowardice
or just altogether
foolish
YOU ARE READING
Albeit flawed,
PoetryI 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?
