• Vol. 10
  • Chapter 04
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You call yourself an invertebrate, but I know
you’ve been hardened: by the laving of the years,
by the pinnate ache of opportunity―
vanes of joy or of new loneliness

I hope you find what you’re looking for
but not in that far off way, not like
watching the ocean, its spread hands paling at your feet
and its feet too far away to get to

This love isn’t just mine; it is yours.
Leave your fears and failures on the shore.