# content
Stella Maris
I I have been longer than hunger on the sea— longer than thirst, longer than the salt’s slow sermon that polishes a man to bone and keeps polishing. The sky unbuttons nothing for me. The sun is a coin I cannot spend. The moon is a white bruise on the water’s shoulder. My tongue is a dry oar. My ribs are a broken ladder to no deck. Yet still my hands remember— not bread, not water— but the warmth of a name I do not dare to speak except as light.

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https://jeffreyfreeman.me/blog/stella-maris/

#Poetry & Literature #Freemo