Weather lined: 10 murals by the sea

Street art poem

Poetry, Quick Read
Gail Ingram | The commuting Book
Gail Ingram

Mar 03   ●  1 min read

This line is the marriage line. It’s open-ended.
This line is the intellect. It’s a circle
inside a circle. This line is the heart line.
Like the water. Like the sand. Like the
tongue licking in between.
This line is how many children I will have.
A big one and a little one.
There is no line where the money
should be. The sun line
runs parallel with fate.
This line is a forest path, leading you on.
You can’t see the beginning. This line
is a smudge. Surely
this is the beginning. My skin
is a city. Underneath these lines
lies the ocean.

 

 

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