a formula for the end of the day |
the bluff is hollowed out beneath my feet etched into an impossible sand-scoured design that echoes with each crash of wave. time has left me hollow— a bloated fish-belly on the shore, ready to explode into a jangled mass of retching. how can my guts unwind themselves when a sea gull has twisted my liver on his vibrating talons? pause. remember to breathe again. lean against an ivy-covered wall, and let the manic music of the day relax its frenetic jangle into a calmer tune. watch at sunset, rays of fire dance scarlet over bone-cold black waters and me. in one sunlit beam, dust motes dangle for me to count— one, ten, two hundred seven— lose track, drift in a cloud of unconcern. see. the waves shine fire upon the rocks— a jagged stained-glass sculpture collapsing into itself over and again. let it breathe with me. fast comes twilight. the sea dons its deeply purpled mask— let it soothe me into night. line count: 40 Prompt ▼ |