be the sea

rise and take the land
speak in tides and rhythms
sing them all to sleep
heal by touch


this is why


when it comes to revolution
capturing minds and hearts
those who disbelieve
it is best to be
the sea

#katyamills

the sea

above the sea

a lonely barn flanked with stables

where horses once hung

their heads

 

the sea cannot be 

contended 

you become a boy

place a flower in my hair 

she thunders she 

outlives us 

all    

#katyamills

vanish. intact

It was hard to extract a wait and see attitude from a now or never upbringing, and time could not be unhinged. Someone was gonna have to ask for help or take off their watch and throw it into the sea. Maybe he would hold her hand. Maybe she would trust him for a walk and a talk, a smoke and a drink. The fog would settle in at low tide, and you could smell the fish that never made it out. Hemingway's ghost headed up the coast. We were lucky he lived that long at all. There was a secret still intact like an oyster with a pearl. Something about the saline seal along the mouth of the shell made us safer. For in there we, too, could vanish intact.