Day 28.

Two sonnets about loneliness. You guys, structured poetry is haaaard. And sucky. Unless you're, you know, good at it.

Part 1: Alone

I swam out to sea when I saw sleek blue-
black fins in the light on the waves: so bright
the sun a wound. i said nothing; heart too
full from the absence of friends and their fights.

My feet only brushed against sand in the
deep negative space a wave left behind.
I was far, chasing seals I could not see
a gift: they left me seclusion to find.

To be alone; to eat and drink the land.
The whole Pacific fit in my cupped palms;
time and the world slow-spun between my hands,
playing cat's cradle on the ocean's calm.

I was a listening island. I heard
only my salt-rough breath and waves' speech slurred.

Part 2: Lonely

i was microscopic, the ocean vast
to be alone is to be paltry lint.
tied in bridal knots each tighter than the last
the water a child locked away by kin.

lonely lasted, in cycles of hurting
distant dots of pixellated masses:
their skim of their eyes so disconcerting
as bone-flesh as it went, so it passes

alone, i am nothing. the smallest swell
could wipe away the fingerprints of years
on my mirror, making me like a shell:
a heavy, hollow reflection of fears.

i am a listening island. i wait
like a wiser embryo: dumb, sedate.