Windswept

When the dust has cleared I'll settle all my debts. I'll save myself from the wreck of this sinking ship, all splintered masts and creaking hulls. The sea is rushing in to fill my boots with brine; the ocean is beckoning with its gentle sighs and swells for me to disappear on the horizon. I'd like to be a plankton, drifting on the current beneath the fierce yawning sky. When I reach dry land, let me come up gasping from the water, my hair full of seaweed, my skin a mixture of sand and flesh. Let me lie on the shore as the blue moon rises high above me, crying its eerie tune; forever lonesome and wanting as it tumbles through the sky, eating pieces of itself along the way. I want the fog to swallow me whole until I worry that I've gone blind; I want it to swirl around me like a damp sandstorm, saturating every pore and strand of hair.