it is of blood red and unexpected,
in an ocean of sorrow and abhorrence
it is an illusion of improbability
in a world of utter blandness

trusting the waves to carry you out
despite being wounded in every way,
never knowing that the sharks themselves
were the ones who once promised to stay.

i think it’s best, when the sharks come by,
to just keep a supply of recollections
and a bottle of water for when the tears dry
when i swim right back to shore.