balance.
the moon can only proclaim to be self-lit.
the ocean will always curdle her skin with discontent.
when we talk of ‘the beginning,’ we talk of ‘the decent.’
soothsayer narcissism, books yellowing seep,
wisdom can also fray.
shadows fall on shallow puddles,
…….surfacing again (that sinking feeling)
true nakedness yields no enamel.
where your throat meets your mouth, the ocean also foams.
