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Sea Series, Poem 3: Treading on Borrowed Life

Navy blue, the salty sea,
I colored the map in pencil,
Before I saw the territory.
This shrine of mine, an aqueous continent,
A liquid breath, heaves under the weight
Of all who make paths that don't stay.

But these tides tell no tales,
There's nothing written in the waves.

If it's a story you seek,
You better look beneath the blue.
There, hidden next to decaying coral,
You'll find the shipwreck you're looking for.

And soon you'll feel it pulling you under.
Mystified, the storm above will keep you
In the depths of the details.
And you'll kick, you'll flip pages,
You'll nearly drown in the oceanic skirts of someone else's story.

And then you'll be tossed out
And you'll clutch the shore like driftwood.
And you'll crawl into the dune grass and
You'll finally write your own damn life
in the sand.

--

Mad Word List 7.24.18

Aqueous
Salty
Dune grass
Storm
Driftwood
Waves

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