i.
desire is a kind of weakness.
in a flame paper curls,
ecstatic to be licked alive,
until it turns to ashes.
desire is a kind of weakness.
the tide swallows the shore,
then leaves you gasping, ground
down to grains of glass.
ii.
are you still waiting to be made
electric by love, to burn
like the sun at dusk.
are you still waiting to grind
yourself down to glass.
are you still waiting
to be moved by someone else’s tide,
for them to curl up inside you.
iii.
you are not a husk.
you are a seashell
flamed in salt.
Amanda Thomas is in her third year of a BFA in Creative Writing. She writes poetry in an attempt to make words sing. She is working on a YA high fantasy novel, which is an endless joy and torture.
Find more of her work on her blog.
Follow her on Instagram at amandathepoetess.