Day 34 of 50 Poems/50 Days

‘The Vessel’

I am a lone vessel
stuck underneath your water.

The feint,
a movement to stir,
to make me look,
as she takes the turn.

As she goes around,
the crook of my arm,
her fingers dig in,
not giving an inch.

I find her legs an anchor,
to keep me still in the tide
her embrace pulling closer,
a wave that pushes my head under.

She plants her sea-salt kisses;
like this meant something;
like this felt good once.

As if the white foam
drowning my lungs
was just her way
of showing me love.

And I plead:
“I am the broken vessel,
buried underneath your dark dream.”

And I repeat:
“I am the figment of memory,
clawing my way back into your sea.”

The white foam pushes and pulls,
like drums meant for war,
like I am lost captain
searching for his shore.


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