My fear of him
comes back in waves.
Most of the time
I play in the water,
a free soul strolling on the sand,
a rational mind writing
poems of the sea.
But a sudden fishy smell
will bring the wave of threat
rolling in,
bring the foam of misuse
straight at me.
Dream waves in the heart
are like
water in the lungs.
12-10-04 pcraig
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