The last time I let
the wave of his ocean
course through me,
we were lying in bed.
Sharing the same pillow,
fixed on his eyes,
I found myself suddenly
beginning to cry...
the type of crying a tired one does...
I dont why.
Perhaps I knew just then
that I had finally drowned...
and now my bedroom has
become an underwater tomb
by which in the dark
I rest alone,
and the ominous silence
falls thicker
and
deeper
than any fish
could ever handle.
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