yesterday, today, tomorrow

written 18.7.24

posted 16.4.25

chopping cucumbers,

stripping green onions.

sitting at the pier and

you bake in the sun;

father’s bucket filled

with half-dead fish.

i watch my toes in the water

wondering if a shark would come up

and bite them off clean.

all things considered, then—

to be boring.

today, i miss the salty taste of the sea.

today, i miss how peeling onions

made me cry.