I cannot deny currents,
That I know are there.
The tide that flows
that pulls, that yanks.
I wonder how long I can float
with these holes.
My hull breached by bruises.
Icebergs disguised as words.
Coral razors beneath my feet
deny me sure footing,
without my saline blood spilling
into even more briny waters.
The undertow that threatens my mouth
it would pour water
lovingly down my throat
to make my heart gasp with your airless caress
shannanor 