Photo Credit: fourteatwo at

The deep
keeps getting

and I’m shaking
your smile
from my eyes,
from my fingers,
sandy with your touch,
your pieces clinging
to my parts
in places I never knew about,

and I’m standing
in hurricane winds,
clinging to your arms,
but they’re slippery
with years,
wet with loss,

and the gusts
sweep me up
out into the bay,
out into the waves
you use to wash me
from your memory,

yet here I stay,
glued to fragments,
shards of what was
and could have been,
my nails digging in
so that I might stay
a little longer.

I weather
and bleed
and stand,
waiting for a touch
that will never be.

~ Patience



2 thoughts on “Weather

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