Ocean

A sea of blue eyes crash over me, urging me ashore.

I want to ask, above the roar, "Can't you see that I was floating alone, trying to be brilliant?"

They smile, a brilliance of their own. "Mama, please," they say!

I swim through apple juice and kisses and an ocean of books,
all
read
before.

Night falls, and I find myself washed up for the day.

Maybe, I'll be brilliant tomorrow...