Dabbling in Dark Magic

The best of us are now
Between the sea and land,
In the froth that is not air nor water.

And I see you from a distance,
Crawling down to me;
With an ox and an ass.

Segmenting the tide as it rises.

Seafoam glass devours,
As one speaks unto another,
Kissing a brilliant mark
Where ships collide.

I’ve felt brass buckles
Touch my skin,
Ripe with ammunition.

And the curling iron drops
Into a bucket filled with salted water,
Plugged in and bursting with potential.

Even as my eyes meet yours,
The sky fries.

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