A space had opened,
as your feet were brought
down into an expanse,
of murderous, cold water.

What can I do
other than watch
your form, going under
both rapids and wilderness?
I had begun to bury
a heart into a plot
of protected earth.

I had begun to conceal
painful memories,
drawn beautifully.

I had begun to flee
where our storms
were gathering.

You were always wanting
to pull that plug
to recreate the darkness,
all while we might
seek a different source
of mystical light.

To feathers, inside of
pillows with their
depressions, from heads
worrying on the next
flawed second,
even in dreams.

To a lightness, I may
find a place where peace
rides on a horse,
towards a sunrise.