Leaving Orphalese


Taunt swells roll to sun’s recline,
Discreet expression tastes of salt and brine,
Shores connect through crooked intent,
and desire of minds bent,

What lies below time reveals,
what calmer waters would conceal,
Delicate passage over waves of distance,
the eye calls only the blind surface,
and seas only the reflection of self.

Tides whisper promise,
through heavy breath of Pitcairian dreams,
Torrid Islands gaze,
with Utopian firmaments of accusing allegory,

They burn with sweltering abstract truth,
of denying natures,
The sea that calls all things unto her,
is always more forgiving.

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john pavlovitz

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