Vast and roaring sea, wet mother
I know you will drag.
my other idols
to rotting or oxidation, undoubtedly.
But those shores that I fell in love with
as necessity, the bearer of poverty
He had baptized them perfectly without asking me,
Don't pollute them.
Let me not forget how I was fed by their army.
Now I just have to dare to dive in.
and the intuition in the eventuality of the bottom
and the idea of an undeserved death.
But imagine me in the final emergence
and when the tamarisks adorn my garden,
my deluded soul pure and light
to retrieve a pearl from the seaweed.
photo by Pexels, https://pixabay.com
