synaptique

Synaptique

.

you never think

until after the gale
shoulders a fair crowd of us
into the white teeth
of the toppling surf
.

your heart won’t sink

watching the tide
tear handfuls of my earnest crew
to fuel the greater ebb’s desire
.

alas we know

only the howling of spent souls
and corpses nudging at the oar
will stir you

.

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