The Strid

Buoyancy,
Rich sky cutting through forest
And we float above one world,
Below another,
Cocooned in inflated walls.

But there are jagged rocks
Lingering below the surface,
Jealous
Because they sunk.
There are branches
Still bearing the wounds
Of their own separation.
There are abandoned
Rusting skeletons
Who tried to fatten themselves
On watery grime
But now long for something
Substantial.

There are tears.
Because love has
Sharp edges.

And we’ve forgotten
How to swim.

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