your emotions are
corseted in. Squeezed in tight
behind your ribs
by whalebone.
Sometimes it feels like
your ocean must have
emptied itself
seven times over
of its tears.
Out of the water, whales
fling onto the shore,
confused by ocean noise,
military sonar and
ships delivering stuff.
Out in the deep, whales,
with bones intact,
swim with hearts
the size of a
small car.
I have cast off the corset of religion.
ReplyDelete(Don't know how that relates but it's what came to mind.)
great poem
ReplyDeleteand love erin's response
Yeah, nice, Erin :) Thank you, Kel :)
ReplyDelete