Photographs, Poetry from The Well

Coming Undone

Burke Lake

Moist air lifts your hair up

off your scalp, and you finger

the stray pieces but it’s pointless.

 

On the lake it’s easy

to bob with the boat

as the sun tints your dewy chest

a warm pink that will

ebb gently as the sunset.

 

On the lake there’s no need

to hold your spine

so straight.

 

The water will

caress it tender

as you float sideways

to the shade.

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One thought on “Coming Undone

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