Once Flowered into Bed
an ocean moved between us —
and our sunset-curtains closed,
somewhere between now’s not-a-good-time,
and, i’m-sorry-you-feel-that-way.
gathering myself in the empty streets,
i return home, identity-dissolved.
your shadow-residue litters the alley-
ways of my cloud-envy-heart.
stone rope anchored to the ship-wreck
it is drowning and not waving.
awake, i wish to drown my rivers.
asleep, i wish to drown my rivers.
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