Salty Nights


The light dances across the floor–abstractly in ways more various than the thoughts crossing my mind. Constantly changing, morphing, colliding into the next. Where does it end?
The sporadic continuum of an endless thought.

a thoughtless mistakes, carefully made. 

My hands work their way 
into the fabric we once slept under

my knees sink into the soft spot 
where we cuddled
The long nights we talked

Salty water
               down my
Cheeks, my neck dripping onto my forearms

Salty water helps the integration 
of skin into fabric

With each rolling tear, my body
becomes one with the last place I held you



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