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Condensation

The Romantic Fall-out

By Claire ThalkenPublished 7 years ago 1 min read
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Oh king of vacillant winds and discarded dreams,

why did you come into mine?

I wanted to lose you in the vastness of my oceans,

but you are air…

my tidal words will never wash you out.

I drew your oxygen inside me

and your warmth excited me to vapor.

I saturated your willing currents

until their heat dissipated and I condensed into clouds

before my gravity forced me from you.

Now the sky is empty and I am scattered.

I can see the stars as fragments of myself

are swallowed into the blackness of the ground.

Constricted in darkness and dirt, I gather

while the earth absorbs my salt and poisons.

I carve streams as I sink into my rocky bed and

I rest, guarded from the influence of the surface.

surreal poetry
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