Sea Salt

On windy days I come here
to hear the ocean roar
crash against the shorebreak
and leave, just like before.1

I look out to the sea
cold, and grey, and yawning
seeking out an end
a beginning; new day dawning.2

And I've been here before
With wind-whipped hair, wild, thrashing
it compliments my heart
that beats out hiccupped clashing3

I've been here to this shore
many times, in many places
But I've never been so sore
to see these washed out faces4

In a world with only me
It is I, and it is the sea
But the salt that coats my cheeks
belongs only to me.5

I've searched the dark horizon
but never have I seen
Another soul to match my own
and that's how it's always been.

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