congestion

Everything that has been locked inside is pouring out my nose and mouth. The honesty in the equation is conveluted. We are recycling old fears. I pass my dreams up into that big ribbon of stars under ntaria skies.

This is not waving but wavering. My fevered dreams reveal old truths. The kitchen sink is overloaded. My washing machine screams. My body collapses into those self same swathes.

I am aching for the sea.