Mayday

mayday, on the cusp of dawn,
boats mix into the blue,
the dead sailors float to you,
as you slip slowly into the familiar blue.

my girl, navy and white,
wood splitting like grass in the wind,
she’s charming, digging far into horizon.

i taste the sea on your papery skin,
i see the sand in your ash hair.
your skin flakes with salt decay.

you can run from yourself,
but this town will never leave your side.
this crowd, this shadow of you.

and the sea, green and blue-
will never mean anything to you.

Reviews

[Grant P.]

Very well written, I like it when poems make descriptions using things like objects such as "papery skin" and "ash hair". Well written, keep it up.

[FocusedAmnesia]

Nice read. It flowed beautifully. It was hard to read, but that may just be on my side.