By Devon S Roberts
During the cyclone, you slept in your car
beneath mile markers on the interstate
and felt the floods carry away the traffic
and commuters drown in the carpool lane.
You ignore the last gas station
before your last exit, the hot, wet
reflux. Keep driving.
Follow the dust vortex
and sand winds to the sea foam shores. Carry
all you can, sink what's leftover, and weld
the body shut.
Verse the polished bone coast
fill your pockets and empty out your lungs.
How long will you hold your breath? Let it go
and introduce yourself to the water.
Allow the moon to drag you in tides.
Contributor Bio
Devon S Roberts (they/he) is a senior majoring in English with a concentration in Creative Writing at Ramapo College.