I'm up to my neck in it
and she tells me not to move
struggle makes me sink
faster and deeper
when the only direction I can go is down
I wiggle my toes with
the hope of touching
something solid a
firm ground
which I can push against and re-emerge
the illusion of
quicksand like a mirage in the desert
and she telling me if I move I only make things worse
when we both know already the worst has already happened
and no matter how
much I wiggle my toes
nothing is there only
the gradual taste of sand
if it reaches my lips
kissing me the way I
once kissed her
drowning me the way she drowned me
I wiggle my toes looking for bottom that doesn't exist
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