Pisces
I am love,
more than lost.
I am more artist, than living person.
I will not give you the look in my eye,
Nor the eye of the storm.
Or any other mechanical thought
That beams from the corners of my
mouth.
It is the world,
Changing like the weather
Weaving storms into words
And my voice into clarity.
It pools just like this:
Furious and deep,
behind the rumination of my eyes.
I am half fish in this world,
more lost in the sea,
than whole in your arms.
Your sideways glance
Into the well,
Reminds me of distances I swim
to be heard.
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