Sea­side

Prairie Fire - - TABLE OF CONTENTS - ALYCIA PIRMOHAMED

96

Your body eased away by the salt and silt of the ocean.

I am at the Pa­cific again.

Hold­ing the mist in my palms is like hold­ing a ghost.

Here we tried to burn the sand. Here we wrote let­ters

to the shal­lows in a lan­guage made of stone.

And here we sprawled like a scat­ter­ing of opal and tour­ma­line.

You are be­com­ing a mem­ory that I visit like a grave

that I drop my­self into.

You are a cube of sugar that I break with my teeth again and again.

The coast has be­come your body ly­ing on its side

each wave slip­ping for­ward say­ing

hush hush.

hush

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