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Salt.

by Stephanie Alfaia

I didn’t find answers.

I rearrange the memories of Neverland
into questions that still rest upon the waves
that lounge on the Sail Rock dive site
I never saw.
And they are the color of water,
changing with the light
and tasting of salt.
I think that God is there
– not that there is a place
where God is not – 
but I think He likes the waves
and that Ritalin feel of giddy 
unsteadiness.
I think the Almighty, in His mighty-ness 
likes the taste of salt.

There is no society
no laws on floating water.
We could never truly stand on those
ceaseless waves.
Constant movement
pretend routine….
You see, constant movement in 
paradise becomes a paused miracle.
And even if this miracle
– which was tied to shifting tides,
that rot gates and brined the air – 
even if,
what good would they be?
They could hardly keep me out,
and could never keep God in.

Perhaps this is why He
likes that place
of water and light 
that tastes of salt and tears.

Take me back.

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