the danger is in the struggle,
they say
to fight the sharp edge of the water
cutting across
and always down
"lean in
lean in," she whispers, "and
slip, weightless beneath the dark waters"
You will turn and churn
and churn in a froth of salt and
the cloud of crimson rising
from wounds you could not find before
hoping
having seen the sun-bleached bodies
litter the shore
staring blankly,
the soft flesh of the eye
fallen prey to crabs
and wild dogs
No comments:
Post a Comment