The rocks of Belle-Ile, 1886, Claude Monet

the rocks

At the rocks of Belle-Ille 

I saw pieces of you in the water 

 

my flaws no longer burn 

but my thoughts of you 

still bleed 

through the pages of my notebooks. 

 

at the rocks of Belle-Ille 

i saw pieces of myself in the water

 

my soul is drowning 

in this hollow cavity 

i call my heart 

that no longer pumps blood

but seduces images of you 

to my brain. 

 

you’re like the monstrous waves 

pulling me deeper into 

this void. 

 

At the rocks of Belle-Ille 

I saw pieces of what used to be in the water. 

 

a ghostly soul seeping steadily in the shore. 

 

and a 

liar 

 

swimming soundlessy with the sharks 

awaiting a slaying by the ocean’s devil.

 

– j.ds

 

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