mishigamaa

barren wasteland of indigo,
sea of dark blue
insatiable desires

you once vanished whole ships,
the toys of children
and their fathers

scientists say you’re shrinking,
unable to resist old age

at the coast your weary hands
brush against my feet
with the weight of a thousand waves

don’t fuss
you’ll soon lie cold and disgruntled

Asha Deaving

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