The Unsaid Sea
Down deep
A vast sea churns
Below the surface
Roiled by all the unsaid things
Between us.
I have done my best
To contain and suppress,
To make space for more,
Bottling the excess,
Smuggling drops here and there
In tight verse.
It’s dry
Where we stand
Unyielding, solid, dependable
But it’s bare.
The cracks
Only hairline fissures
Are still there
The urge
To rain blows
On the dusty earth
To smash this carapace
This protected space
To fall through
With you
Into that place
Where the unsaid
Finds an ear
Where we can truly be here:
That urge is building.
The Unsaid Sea
Simmers in the dark
But the tide is rising.
© 2023 Mary Goodman