32/365

FORMLESS

The
churning
moon sends
me splashing
to edges of ocean
sprawl. When I match
steps with dancing rivers,
I mold myself into every new
bed. In freefall, I concede my
shape to winds that sculpt me.
After you settle me into your
glass, this pours into
your sweat and
tears.

FORMLESS

The
churning
moon sends
me splashing
to edges of ocean
sprawl. When I match
steps with dancing rivers,
I mold myself into every new
bed. In freefall, I concede my
shape to winds that sculpt me.
After you settle me into your
glass, this pours into
your sweat and
tears.

Christopher Shumaker  29, Seattle

 
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