as the waters cover the sea.

“you hold your truth so purely”

 

but it’s not enough

 

not ever no never enough, softly gently far too tough

 

like when we ran as fast as thoughts do

 

across the gravel road, skipping

 

between the speeding cars

 

before we knew why.

 

And when I’m in the hallways, now in these days

 

it’s like that metaphor, that jar they filled up with the marbles(we said “full”)

 

then the coffee beans(we said

 

“full”)

 

then the sand(we

 

said “full”)

 

then the sour fermented old apple juice(till “full” was “true”);

 

halls are the jar, I am the lithe water

 

or sometimes the slipping grain of sand

 

and the larger-than-life marbles and the dark, pungent dimpled coffee beans

 

trudge and toss on the linoleum floor sea

 

as I slide by, behind

 

unseen

Done