Wind-Whipped

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dry land

who will listen to me
as i lay awake and wonder out loud
at the beauty of the water that surrounds me
and drowns me
but the little fish that swim
in circles around my head look like stars and
tangled between my toes is the seaweed that anchors me.
soft against my heels is the sand that
rubs my skin raw
and your words have the power to pull me free
but instead you fish for the stars and collect
the sand for your pictures of me that hang above the fireplace
that coughs with soot and unused coals that i left for you
and you’ll look at the pictures and wonder at the beauty of dry land.

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