a conversation

i welcome sleep as it is - a long lost friend returning home from battle, arms draped over my shoulders, weeping. i held it close and whispered - as if it were my only friend, being the prince of the sky, asking of why i cling to my possessions like a dog to its territory, why i harbor insane notions about silly things -

"we are all barren, stripping the land, looking for love in white-capped waves of our own destruction."

i asked why mother nature was pulling me by the roots of my hair, and being as i am, a girl who speaks vague classroom french and stands at the waterside passing small thoughts
like stones as the brine and tangling seaweed washes over my broad and open feet, i condescendingly believed he would give me straight answers-

"all languages we speak are diligent and binding, we bite our tongues against society, and she is just trying to say hello."

silence like a trainwreck passes on four feet and i wait, breathing, for the hour to come and announce itself to me in a rain-like voice. the long arm of my love reaches out to the universe, still and quiet, just so. i will find this yet, i think.

"but we are only foreign if we are far from home."