Dreams

I dreamt of decay slipping 
off of the bones and the 
veins thawing from
white to deep blue. 

These bruises line under the
skin like waterlogged bark
softened under the salt
of a beaten sea. 

But the sea is vast and void
of anything other than the
sound of it’s own crashing. 

Like a derailing train, 
or the cry of a child. 

– B. 

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