Bite the lip
that trembles
from a first belief
that turbulence
had cleared.
Drown the ache
in Neptune’s flood,
after broken flesh
has been buried
a total of twice.
To remember
your fall,
I’ll be tempted
to dive right in,
to reclaim what I hoped
death wouldn’t take.
To revisit
where your light
had vanished,
I might use the moment
to explore a realm
unmeant for beating hearts.
You’ve been promised
better peace,
greater relief
than all I could do
with gentle hands.
You have your bed
made from dark soil,
while I’m floating
upon waters
spilled from blind eyes.
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