Burning cities and sinking ships


You’re sand,
everywhere
slipping between my fingers.
Tracked in by my shoes,
falling from my hair
from the dunes
before we knew we were doomed.

The sky is broken into pieces.
I am a pillar of salt floating in the sea,
rushing out to touch you,
only to be sent away. 
Looking back.
The city is burning.

Everything is on a tilt, 
A compass that never points true north.

A ring on the wrong finger,
The Heart of the Ocean
broken instead of lost,
never recovered in the wreckage.

Tell Rose I'm sorry,
and Lot's wife that I understand.

Sinking or burning,
Sometimes we can no longer hold on
or resist looking back.


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