oh the ocean took
for what it’s worth to promise a sculpture,
an inevitable invitation to be,
to be wrapped around ones
delicate finger, oh how you’ve consumed half of me.
appointed in the design of the architecture,
oh the architecture of you twirling me
to spin spin around my amorous finger,
your chlorophyll dances in the breeze.
oh how you’ve influenced my promises, and
those promises the ocean took.
but the ocean had it’s promises,
in the sand, sprawling
I awoke.