I have no life preserver
To toss her,
Even if she trust me
To catch it
If I did,
Watching her
Drift wherever
The fickle tides
Take her,
After she has
Pointed herself
In the “right”
Direction,
We all suffering
The deeper we go
Where we can’t
Feel bottom
Even with the tips
Of our toes
Her life, like my life
Slowly sinking
Like broken
Oyster shells
Having already
Spent whatever
Aphrodisiac power
It might possess
Her desperate fingers
Grasping at things
No longer there,
Things that cannot save her,
Things she learned
To use to survive,
All failing her
As the sea rises,
The ruthlessness of nature,
She can only drift
Away into the fog,
Where I can barely
See her,
The fog horns of
Distant ships
Making her cries mute,
She needs love
To save her,
But where do you
Find it
In a place so
Otherwise
Devoid of life.
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