
There is a maelstrom of blue
Inside me. What is
A maelstrom? You say
Which is the same thing I thought
When writing it. A maelstrom
Is what gobbles up
Ships. It razes
Cornfields flat. It brings
Puddles for jumping
All about town. Likewise, blue
Is periwinkles baked
In sun. An eye
I gravitate towards;
slow currents.
It is the sound I make
When I open my mouth.



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