Sleeping On The Rock

The winter winds whistle by from bay and sea, as if aggressively making love to one another much like we used to do. A memory that fades while a blackout swallows the light within me. The A train rumbles loudly and shakes the foundation of my home like your touch once shook my world. This stillness brings no rest. I get half asleep. Everything is done halfway now. I am half of what I once was. You were a Sandy-esque hurricane that blew me away only to leave me as scrap and rubble as I struggle to sleep on a Far Rock. 

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A ship’s,

Sails float precariously,

In the wind.

The hollow of their shell,

Like caucasian tides,

Floating, Swimming,


Their bloated, rotting flesh,

Fat with liquid like,

Drowned rats.


As vermin,

To the depths of the sea.

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