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7/31/2011

She has fallen
into water so deep,
she doesn't even feel the drowning.
All she knows is the absence of name
and the intoxicating dance of bubbles.
They flail in verticals
beading up like backwards raindrops.
They're taunting her
teasing up to where she cannot get to.

There is a weight, you see,
around her wrist.
It tugs her down with a wrenching grip,
to where seaweed binds her broken eyes.

4 comments:

ProverbialCage said...

I love this. Perfect flow. Whenever I read your writing it's as though the words drift and bounce and move along as I read. It's really great.

Emily Anderson said...

For one, I love the little blurb above the posting box. :) For two, I really enjoy this poem, I love how your emotions convey if I had one wish, I would wish that I could write as well as you or even close to it. I have a feeling that one day you'll be sharing pages with the greats <3

Anonymous said...

God, this is beautiful. As you are.

Melee said...

Oh my goodness, I love this! It's beautifully written and has such emotion.
If you wrote this recently, I would definitely say your writer's block is gone or quickly retreating!