Words: Veronica Gikas (She/Her)
there is a fog
that holds the sea.
it’s lungs were
wide open
for me
it took me in
and gave me seaweed
tea
and rosemary bread
it left pebbles underneath my feet the kind that give way
unrelenting
the angels were there again.
they tickled the nape
of my neck
and coiled their fingers
through my thread
and the fog pursued me –
still.
it was an unresolved agreement
every part of me that was part of
someone else
had gone back to the rotting fruit
and decaying earth
leeches ached for my flesh,
whatever could be left of me.
and there it was again
the fog
she sang to me and stroked my hair i told her
i have nothing beautiful left to say
she said
your soul spills out before me and you still don’t see how we can be transfixed with your heart.
