There is an ache like oceans
emptying themselves of everything but salt.
I walk the bottom,
cut my feet with wandering,
I fear her reckless chasms
and keep going.
Because for years
I thought I had a choice
in who and what and how I loved
when the only choice I ever had
was if I loved at all.
Here I am,
singing music to call the sea to shore.
Jessica Michael lives and writes in Prescott, AZ when she’s not traveling this intriguing blue planet. Her work has appeared in Allegro, Comstock Review, Red Fez, Rebelle Society, Outdoor Australia, and others. Find her poetry and photography at www.authorjessicamichael.com or follow her on Instagram as @authorjessicamichael.
Foxglove Journal 