At the Breakwater

            with lines from T. S. Eliot

I am thinking how my nerves
are bad tonight
, like heaving
water, wind-tossed, casting
reflections of the sky. I do not
want to ruin experience
with understanding, the ground
with the air, and so on.      Yes, bad
but by the water, early summer,
I think I might find the kind of
truth I’m looking for: limbs slowed
with sweat, hair wet, the sun
pressed against my face, I breathe
there, dumbly. Yes, I can
hold the ocean between my
palms. Yes, bad. Yes, I do not want
to pretend. Stay with me.

Isabel Prioleau lives in Charleston, South Carolina. She interns for The Adroit Journal, and you can find her most recent work in The Post and Courier. Isabel was an attendee of the 2018 Juniper Institute for Young Writers and the 2019 Iowa Young Writers’ Studio, and is a member of the Adroit Journal Summer Mentorship Program’s 2020 cohort.

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