Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
I had
drowned in
those ocean currents
they call eyes.

Slipped away,
not a word outspoken.
Strangled with glacier hands,
fingertips of salt and
thunder cottoning my
eardrums.

You wanted to save me,
but I could not tell you
over the salt eroding
my throat,

that you were the one drowning me.
At length their long kiss severed, with sweet smart:
And as the last slow sudden drops are shed
From sparkling eaves when all the storm has fled,
So singly flagged the pulses of each heart.
Their bosoms sundered, with the opening start
Of married flowers to either side outspread
From the knit stem; yet still their mouths, burnt red,
Fawned on each other where they lay apart.

Sleep sank them lower than the tide of dreams,
And their dreams watched them sink, and slid away.
Slowly their souls swam up again, through gleams
Of watered light and dull drowned waifs of day;
Till from some wonder of new woods and streams
He woke, and wondered more: for there she lay.

— The End —