MORNING CUP

Did you feel the wind coming,
or see those sea waves crushing little pebbles to silt?
They inhabited the shore just beneath my feet—
Claiming you. Claiming home.
Last night when I wept,
I drank on my tears—
gulped them down to drown the senses,
but the wind picked them up,
and then whirred over the rim of your morning cup.

© Gheeneil

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