... poetry ...

Tides and the Net Weight of Whiskey

the full moon wanes

the sea pulls herself in

‘neath the shore lies a desert

and she’s ebbed once again

when the tide is high

she’s a captive to the sun

but in her shifting eyes

she’s always on the run

and if you take me on that midnight train

lay your head on my shoulder

and if the stars don’t shine again

let me sail upon your waters

and the whiskey weighs me down

to the bottom of the ocean

she once said,

“you’re a stream and I’m the sea.

you could flood your banks forever

it’s never enough to fill me.”

“you’re my catcher in the rye

I’m your hope with no disguise

and if we falter with these feelings

we’ll just believe each other’s lies.”

and if you take me on that midnight train

lay your head on my shoulder

and if the stars don’t shine again

let me sail upon your waters

and the whiskey weighs me down

to the bottom of the ocean

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