Schmuckumentary

We were victims of the curse of stagnance.

Who’s to blame for the tide that never came?
Maybe when we’re brave enough, we will know.
Maybe when we’re men enough, we will understand.

A new river has broken from the ground.
Flowing.
Quenching.
The moon smiles for me.

I kiss the shore one last time and loosen my grip on the sand.
Away.

To where the waters will take me.
To capes, to poles, to peninsulas.
But for now
I am a wave

with memories of land.