Better Together

They will
always stand –
like headstones,
concrete and solid,
uniform against
the tide.

Imagine me
standing stoic
before them
but assume
that internally,
I am splayed out
on the ground,
my fists pounding
out a rhythm
designed to
puff air back
into the lungs
of what used to be.

They will
always stand –
and I get a sick
sense of pleasure
out of knowing that.

I can try to
convince myself
the world was
one way but
they will stand
in opposition,
eager to force
back the tide.


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