Billowed Sails

I want waves to wash away

the sand between my toes

and the salt on my skin,

the signature on my sin,

that contract of woe.

I want the breezy wind

to part clouds, moonlit

seas, and seize what ails me.

Billowed sails, I’m failing,

can’t hear over the wails.

© CGT, 2017.

This was in my drafts, but I barely remember it. I must have been half-asleep.

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Talk to me.