California crumbles

into the Sea.


I had a dream last night.

We were sitting where we used to

and you examined my hand where it lay on the table.

You pressed your dirty fingers nails into the life lines

as if you could smooth out those creases.

You had started to hurt,

so I asked you to stop.

but you didn't.

tip it slowly,

it won't spill,

all you know is,

it dies at will.