Thursday, February 5, 2009

The Sensation of Drowning

The water in your eyes arrests me.
Falling, Climbing, Ending.
Stern as a Puritan
You mournfully creep
Into my well
And contain me in your look.
Smoky stares
Form an opium silk cross.
Swallowed by the daze of your pool
I gracefully descend
like ashes
thrown into the ocean.

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