I woke up in the wave
Again the sea had washed
Soft colored stones between my lips
And left me silent with dreams
I have tried writing for days
Now and nothing
Will come but you and your
And you again. I know you would hate
The way I talk about you
To people who don't know
Your name or face. You hate
That I talk about you as if
You are already gone,
That you never were, like a widow
Speaks of the man she lost
To the war, the one
That never came home to marry her.