Craving the Ocean
Sometimes, our bodies stand in
Darkness, with loss of our frames,
Without use of the limbs assigned to us.
Sometimes, our words mix with cement
And render our mouths useless,
Even when we crave the sounds of
Our own voices.
Sometimes, our hunger for warmth
Leads us to hallways without windows,
Where we eat on our memories that
Dig furiously into our goals.
Sometimes, I wish our bodies could
Swim like dolphins,
Sometimes, I wish the limbs,
The flesh that you once held,
Would fall to the ocean’s bottom
And grow new roots that
Possess no dirt or shame.
©2013 Christy Birmingham