by Paxton Grey
what good are all these bodies / made of waves breaking
against each other? / lights and sounds tumble into the sea,
an ancient thing swallowing / hollowing and filling again.
this refraction is the warping we know / and a flood is just
the regurgitation of ages / onto everything that grounds us—
grinds me to sand / maybe this is why / i panic at the sight
of too many faces / each with bodies / moving / eyes
darting / this void / between beings / overwhelms me.
Paxton Grey (he/they) is a non-binary, neurodivergent software developer living in Virginia. His work has been published or is forthcoming in Sundog Lit, Glass: A Journal of Poetry, Pithead Chapel, Empty Mirror, and elsewhere. They can be found on twitter @BaileyGWrites.