Salt
I see autumn brown hills
in your eyes,
under the rustling earth hues,
there is a vivacious green ready to spring,
like life curled in a seashell.
I take my hand and tilt your chin up,
looking down into your eyes,
I hear the ocean whispering
in your gaze,
waves crash whenever you blink,
and when you look away
the carcasses of sea creatures wash up
in the shore between us.
Now I spend my days
trying to bury
the dead beauty caught in our void.