the ocean is roiling
inside a conch shell
a memory made light
without the salt of the sea.
Foams sweet
like root beer on your tongue.
You fool yourself
as if you didn’t wince from the taste
as if you didn’t spit the brine out on the sand.
He’s the wave
your wave
leaving the shore
only to come back
to leave you again.
What do you call this
recurring, predictable, preventable
pending failure of a condition?



Scavenger Hunt Writing Prompt 14:  conch shell, a memory, pending failure, root beer.


This entry was posted in creative writing, love, poetry, scavenger hunt 2016, Scavenger Hunt Writing, writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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