a full, an empty place

postcard poetry day 26

each time a dream,
a trepidation

(it never moved straight
it curves and returns, molding us
with each kiss)

to break away from this
a kind of death
the cries of a newborn

i’m not afraid
i’m terrified 
but the hunger is larger
only the sea can fill it

Love this? Coffee is my love language.

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