My Voice Should Die On Land Poem by Jonatha Moya

My Voice Should Die On Land



. am not a sailor.
I am meant to die on land,
ashes spread above sea level,
or in a coddled urn above the hearth.
My voice is paper and
where I choose to exist,
a white world that is not sky—
this voice of mine.
I have no ensign.
My heart beats soft, beautiful words,
a language of stars,
that knows that the twinkle
was once magnificent suns.

.

My Voice Should Die On Land
Monday, June 29, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: stars
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