Sureline
Believe me: this piece is paced by the waves
that were crashing upon me while I wrote this.
Lying on death’s bed I
imagine myself wondering why I
couldn’t have just been more
sociable or lovable or I don’t
know you choose the word More
soft and sweet and carved out of you Since fall
ing in love I haven’t
had much to write Since falling in love my
poems have lost their an
archy smoothed out neatly formulaic
careful organized Since
falling in love I have learned to deny
my masochism Since
falling in love I’ve become a maso
chist. I am not well Since
falling in love I have watched the ocean
sunrise off the coast of
Maine the sea is so forgiving it for
gives even me forgives
my mother for making me and you for
keeping Forgives you when
you have left forgives you when I cannot
Since falling in love I
believe anything again The ocean
is not my poem and
I am not the ocean’s anything
Frances Sharples is a junior English major at SUNY Geneseo and the editor-in-chief of The Lamron and Iris Magazine. Despite their overcommitment to and enthusiasm regarding a ridiculous number of things, it could be argued that all they truly care about is snacks, Wordle, and Dora Jar.