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it is deep water it is shallow
language is a puddle
a clean white cloud
condensed
dirty water
reflecting sky
a swimming pool the
light all chopped up
the echoes public
fun chlorine and piss
the shared
privacy the shower taken
the sea too all that surface the light dancing
the fetch the
crests the troughs
and below
the continental shelf
rip tides and undercurrents
the imagined
sharks the all too real shipwrecks then
the melting
icecaps the far-off shores distance
the polar bear
tiring the muscle of life giving out sinking slowly drifting down
into the mind’s
dark telescope silently as if the sound were turned off
yet leaving some
residue of suffering in the empathetic ear not quite heard
not quite a scream not quite a prayer not quite the word
