Brine.

Brine blue and deep green hues,
Swirling whirlpools.
A river rages behind your eyes.
Deeper than that a calm more wise.
Your gaze like an overfull brook,
I drown in you with a single look.
Torrent and tide shield the truths
That you hide.
If I went under would
I be torn asunder?
Stream rising and swelling with
No way of telling…
Does your soul meander
Slow and steady,
Or are you a rage of rapids?

I cant swim; so I’ll never know.

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