the sun burns white in an endless sky
as i forget the silver glow of a faint moon
i no longer hear signs of life
all is quiet
most everything is dead
stars hang reflectionless
in a sea of tears
i struggle to remember
what life was like
when things were normal
when there was hope
that last summer
of two thousand nineteen

Thumping heart of the world,
gurgles and sploshes, urging
to pursue a fit life
for eternal paradise.
The wind rages in unified
choir with stoic rocks
in agreement as the whole
of nature seems to scream
"Go to your desires."

Nauseated, I ran
hundreds of miles away
on reflectionless, black rocks
invisible in darkness
pummeled by wind and wave
full of profound realizations
commonly known but deafening
to those lost in paradise.

Lightning drowned

its boiled quickening.

Its baptism's wielded thirst.

Sword unto water, water unto

quintessence without name.

Bubbles like a black dress

that meant to confuse its open

conduit.

Charms in cloth, cloth in motion,

motion in dance--downs the guard

of rain.

The silver flood of a star that crosses

its star.

Quartered water, reflectionless

water--spoken over in dead

containment.

Spells that do not spill from their

dead containment--hide the clearest

face from stars.

What's hidden hopes to poison

another's quintessence, that they

may become that dead containment.

Water sees this, water Knows those

blessed by its quintessence, its sheen--

its Fish.

Sees to it that those that curse die slowly

by water, jerking & sinking where a

fish would be.