I drop your photograph in the sea C L A I R E K U O, C O LU M B I A U N I V E R S I T Y
But I am the sailor submerged in your endless blue–– your sea glass shoulder blades, worn smooth under the fingerprint whorl of eddies. My hands are caught in your tangled ripples and curls; my white crescent nails like the frothy brim of waves sweeping shells to shore. The conchs cry the lightheadedness of feeling lost
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B R YA N T L I T E R A R Y R E V I E W