Aiming for a creative life

I Am Santo

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Swimming in the sweat of God
There’s delight
Under palms,
Against the body,
Held aloft as the salt
Boueys 
Reminding the restless
That there’s a place of belonging
Lurking around each 
Staggering day.
Empty kisses and 
The graceless fuck
Make waves,
Patch the deistic sea
With freshwater
That pulls like whirlpools
Into the drowning of routine.
Somewhere there’s open sea
The brine of lust
And comforting tides
But this wondering 
Comes at the cost 
Of held breath
And panicked hope
That the air 
doesn’t run out.
Because 
No matter how good
Each sensation’s fickle joy proves 
The wrong will hold
Like an anchor in 
The seabed 
Of tomorrow
Where His currents 
Demand obedience 
And the water grows thick
With muddy obligation.

***

When @zeusnursemaiden says jump, I write as high as I can. This is her fantastic image with my words and edit. As always, thank you for the inspiration, my lovely friend. 

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