at last the tide comes in
bringing the empty bottles to shore. the sand polishes the lables till the glass glistens like jellyfish or other smooth treasures wreathed in
tangled seaweed, fishscales and the rest that been cast aside.
now their small mouths call to me above the surf, begging my lips for a kiss, and god willing
these spirits would wet my tongue and burn down my body.
i am so thirsty
never mind them bottles are empty inside save for a little sea salt
nevermind bottles on the beach are supposed to have other messages,
i dont figure i could read em in the dark anyway.