I swallow oceans
And make them into wells
Of my own dreams.
I pull out metal from my blood
And mould them into coins.
And as I drop them one by one
My wishes become tides
With lows and highs
Raging into a storm
Until the seas swallow
A thousand ships;
Carved out of my ruins
And I'm left on the shore
Holding sands of proximity
In my fist.
As I watch it slip.

- Barkha