Perfect Storm
In the motel room
you don’t see her
lose her mooring line
to a cyclonic subterranean force
In the motel room
her meaning swept from her
north star lost to a black night
icey salt water runs down her neck
In the motel room
you pull her from her
hairdryer cord ligature oblivion
her tow line to silence
In the motel room
Interesting!! I like keep re reading cheers sam
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