You had me the moment the sea came in βΊοΈ This sea feels like a keeper of salt and silence, with its waves returning suspended truths. Glad I finally had time to catch up on your recent work and find this one π
I fell in love with this poemβitβs so romantic. By chance, I read it while listening to Melody Gardotβs βCβest Magnifiqueββa perfect match.
I loved this one Mark. I am a fan especially of all your poetry. This one touched me in that wild brave way a woman like me wants to be free. Wants to fly not away but boldly.
Mark, this piece listens before it speaks. You let salt, breath, and silence carry what language cannot. The sea becomes a keeper of unspoken truth, not a backdrop. It stays with the reader like a taste, felt before itβs understood.
What a beautiful piece The salt, the breath, the rhythm β sensation arriving before words. I love how the sea isnβt asking anything of her, just holding what canβt yet be said. That last space, between mouth and sea, feels so true to how some truths need to be kept for a while before theyβre spoken.
Mark! This is exquisite: quiet, deliberate, and porous. The sea isnβt backdrop; itβs interlocutor, patient enough to receive what language canβt, yet insistently present. I love the way the poem keeps that tension between saying and being, between the self and what exceeds it. By the end, the breath of the breeze and the weight of unspoken truths feel inseparable, as if the poem itself has learned to listen.
I love you name the sea as βinterculatorβ, which feels just right and much better than I could named myself.
That tension saying and presence was something I was keen to hold onto in the piece.
And the unspoken truth for the last lines is exactly something I was trying to speak. Where youβre left with a feeling that you heard a truth, a myth even, that had already existed, and you just hadnβt noticed.
Yes, like overhearing the sea mid-sentence and realizing itβs been talking the whole time. I love that you let the truth stay slightly mythic, just out of reach; it makes the poem feel discovered rather than declared. Those are my favorite kinds of listening.
I love how the sea becomes a witness here. It feels intimate and quietly devastating. This feels like standing inside a quiet conversation between a body and its truth. Really beautiful.
Thank you @Castor K Pollux. Witness is such a precise word here.
That sense of being seen without being pressed to explain felt important to me, especially the quiet devastation that comes when the body knows something before the mind is ready to catch up.
I love how you put it: a conversation of presence, between body and truth.
Iβm really glad it landed that way for you. π
Beautiful
Thank you Andrea π
You had me the moment the sea came in βΊοΈ This sea feels like a keeper of salt and silence, with its waves returning suspended truths. Glad I finally had time to catch up on your recent work and find this one π
Thank you so much Marble.
Thereβs some specials inside us with the sea the memories and truths it holds.
Iβll be swimming over to say hello too soon π€ π€ π€
The sea really does carry so much. See you soon! π
This had a beautiful rhythm, almost a tongue twister. Loved the alliteration.
Thank you so much Maria
I really feel the tongue twister side of it too, as it makes me mumble the words in my mind π
Great skills in playing with language and words with this piece. I like the thought of water holding memory.
Thank you Gub π
Me too and water can hold a lot of memories
Some truths donβt want to be said. They want to be held.
That is perfectly said @Sara da Encarnação βΊοΈ
Thank you Mark
I fell in love with this poemβitβs so romantic. By chance, I read it while listening to Melody Gardotβs βCβest Magnifiqueββa perfect match.
Thank you so much Phoeby for sharing that and the musical accompaniment π π
I will listen later π
Great poemβ€οΈ
Thanks luke!
I loved this one Mark. I am a fan especially of all your poetry. This one touched me in that wild brave way a woman like me wants to be free. Wants to fly not away but boldly.
Thank you so much Dorie, and so pleased it let you feel that wild and brave spirit inside π€
Mark, this piece listens before it speaks. You let salt, breath, and silence carry what language cannot. The sea becomes a keeper of unspoken truth, not a backdrop. It stays with the reader like a taste, felt before itβs understood.
Sorry Dawnithic, I thought I had replied..
I love how you've caught the taste on your lips and seen we don't always need language for meaning to travel.
Unspoken truths speak to the heart of the piece and you caught that so well. π€
πβ¨ππβ€
Beautiful. And so true. It's too long since I saw the sea.
Thank you so much @Jessie Laverton and so pleased it stirred some memories in you π
I love how the sea becomes something human, like a person maybe.
Maybe the only thing
The only truth about us, humans
Is the salt on our tongue before we learn language.
Thank you so much @Jeanne Vessantra for such a close reading.
There is something about salt, and taste that touches us as a truth, and before we learnt langugage or words.
Beautifully said. π
Lovely work
Thanks Pratishtha π
What a beautiful piece The salt, the breath, the rhythm β sensation arriving before words. I love how the sea isnβt asking anything of her, just holding what canβt yet be said. That last space, between mouth and sea, feels so true to how some truths need to be kept for a while before theyβre spoken.
Thank you so much for your reading Nat.
That sensation of arrival before the words exist felt like something that needs to flow through the piece.
And you captured it perfectly with the two lines, that presence without request is all thatβs needed.
Beautifully read.
It flows perfectly.
Mark! This is exquisite: quiet, deliberate, and porous. The sea isnβt backdrop; itβs interlocutor, patient enough to receive what language canβt, yet insistently present. I love the way the poem keeps that tension between saying and being, between the self and what exceeds it. By the end, the breath of the breeze and the weight of unspoken truths feel inseparable, as if the poem itself has learned to listen.
Thank you so much Dipti!
I love you name the sea as βinterculatorβ, which feels just right and much better than I could named myself.
That tension saying and presence was something I was keen to hold onto in the piece.
And the unspoken truth for the last lines is exactly something I was trying to speak. Where youβre left with a feeling that you heard a truth, a myth even, that had already existed, and you just hadnβt noticed.
Yes, like overhearing the sea mid-sentence and realizing itβs been talking the whole time. I love that you let the truth stay slightly mythic, just out of reach; it makes the poem feel discovered rather than declared. Those are my favorite kinds of listening.
Mine too. Like sitting on sea shore, knowing there is only water and expanse in front of us π€
I love how the sea becomes a witness here. It feels intimate and quietly devastating. This feels like standing inside a quiet conversation between a body and its truth. Really beautiful.
Thank you @Castor K Pollux. Witness is such a precise word here.
That sense of being seen without being pressed to explain felt important to me, especially the quiet devastation that comes when the body knows something before the mind is ready to catch up.
I love how you put it: a conversation of presence, between body and truth.
Iβm really glad it landed that way for you. π
This feels like sweet and gentle whispers... beautiful work.
Thank you @mirage for letting this land gently with you π