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your words that came crashing over me
so cold the clear shock was like salt water
filling any mariner's lungs caught far below decks
whose ship has impossibly broken apart
an ocean rushing tightly in on us
sheets of ice-green desperation
and I would grow gills and fins,
a mermaid's fanned tail, her kelp wavy
hair, if only you would return to me.
copyright 2016
Ed
Higgins |
