The platinum waves
curl in, crash and crumble.
A fleck of spray
lands on my lip,
(the Earth’s spittle).
Wind blows my hair
into a frenzy.
Can you feel it, Little Bean?
Feel the tide rocking,
the stones humming.
From the safety
of your cell, your shell,
Can you feel it?
Dedicated to El Frijolito.
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Jai El Frijolito! Viva viva!
I love the idea of the Earth having spittle…
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