Nor’easter
Weather me to honesty
And blow me back to sea—
To birth and home // and origins of self.
Midnight calls to yesteryear.
Forecasts made in quiet.
Have you considered turning inland?
I am the land and storm,
My soil sown with salt.
Bringing myself to realization—
A synonym for inhospitable.
I’ll take myself by wind // or quake // or silent dissipation,
Or desperation
Or dying.
They all feel just the same now.
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