Saturday, May 8, 2010


I drown in dreams.

Gentle at first,
The waves
Come reconnoitering,
Rock me
In the hollow
Of my pillow.
Then urgently,
The powerful tide
Pulls me out,
Forces my clinging fingers
From the rope of consciousness,
Carries me down,
Down and down,
Holds me under
Until I stop struggling
And drown.

Every night.

There is a city under the sea,
Of shadowy surfaces
And shifting grey shapes,
All the ghosts
Of childhood.
We never left you, they murmur.
Even in that other world
We are always with you,
Fluttering around you
With our soft, invisible wings.
At night,
Our bony fingers
Reach above the waves,
Loosening your grip on the rope,
Thick rope now,
But stiffening,
And frayed.
We pick at its strands.
One day, my dear,
The last thread will split,
And you will stay with us.

Struggling and gasping,
I thrash back.
My head
Breaks the surface.
I heave myself onto the shore,
And as the last wave recedes,
I reach for the rescuing rope.

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