Phases (Tuesday morning)

Oh, there are days.*

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*When the sting of the salt sea’s embrace calls to me
The bracing wind invigorating my loins
In all joy, the trees swing in a dance
Confident that these exhalations will never abandon

*When my soul yearns for some passion—not in people, no
I crave one simpler, where
Left alone, I sway naked in relief that my phases
Hopelessly fractured, are accepted by the surrounding elements

*When, held hostage by boxes and straight lines, I
Long for organic curves and chaos, finding symmetry in the imperfect
Neglecting control, I assimilate to Nature’s whims
Letting it shape my being with no say or investment of mine

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*There are days when I daydream.

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