adriatico

here,
all must let something out into the adriatic.

when we travel,
there are bags and cases
wherein we stuff pieces of the landscape and take them away with us.

we sleep, knowing and trusting that the capsules will transport our memories safely home.
some are made and taken in photographs,
glowing screens and lightning flashes
that capture thunderstorms in megapixels.

how many are involuntary? burned into memory instead under the clear water;
moments of entropy when some remove clothes to let it penetrate.
other slash their feet and bleed,
crimson clouds billowing into the depths.

all must let something out into the adriatic.
and all must exchange it for a memory.