the fog rolls in,
as Poseidon's lingering exhalation.
my oars slap the water
and i pinch myself.
im tired and cant call asleep.
the beams shines out
trying so very hard to slice through the stew of fog.
i feel it reflect upon my cornea
deep in my eyes.
i turn. my fingers are crossed.
i have found my lighthouse.
1 comment:
I would like to find a lighthouse, these days.
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