my shadow threw flowers
into the sea for you. floated
words on petals, threads
for you to pull. calling
through bright sun, casting
into murky waters. see
how closed curtains float
when blown. fresh lemon
wind leaning against bark
until the wood vibrates
you—again and again.

8/100
For the next 100 days, I’ll be writing and posting a poem every day. I hope you’ll follow along.