lifeboat

trying desperately to make my apartment look put-together.  Stumbling through all my boxes and various treasures that I packed up over two months ago..

—-
You: the room I run to during
tornado warnings,

highest point during
flood season,

the bloodbank
I frequent after

stabbings.

I am a  river slow-winding its way to the
ocean

home.
your lips taste of

salt.

Advertisements