Someone Yet Still

Last updated on November 19, 2025

“Never again,” said I.
She smiled: “Someone yet still”
I battled, “Not for this heart, broken.”
But she was unmoved, a quiet gleam in her eyes.

There I stood, surveying all the damage—
the shore’s waters beating the rocks,
driftwood scattered along the strand,
the sun at last breaking through.

A heart unbroken has never truly beat,
never felt the pain that makes a new day bright.
A heart that has never known its wounding
cannot know the medicine of a tender embrace.

With measure, I began to rebuild the cave,
the cave that once protected me,
that sheltered me—
but this time with walls
impenetrable, unattainable.

Rock by rock,
Making it smaller,
cement of sand and hand,
a place to be alone,
a hollow made for hiding.

Still the waters beat the cave;
The tide had not yet turned.

The waters flooded my refuge;
They gleamed in the moonlight, unmoved.
“Never again,” I whispered to whatever god lay beneath,
to whatever god shaped the path before me.

Yet the waters answered back.
“No,” said I.
someone yet still,
“I can’t,” I demanded
someone yet still,
“Who?” I begged.
someone yet still.