here we fall
to pieces;
undead skin
cells rushing on the planes
of our faces
our plain faces
barely ghosts on cold ocean
uprising black and glowing
with hope and a blink of
knowing
full to overflowing foaming
stars and milk skin
smooth
seamless salty sewn with
sobbing heaving wracking ribs
sunken cracked in shattered things
rock to salt
renewed we rise
as slow as sand
and fine as grains
of sea glass smoothed