Sinking

Baptismal waters are creeping in.
A dismal fountain of eternal youth
Rushes in from the sea.
Who left the doors open
To the all consuming flood
That rips through tiles and beams?
Waters rush to fill the places
That once were perfectly empty spaces.
It’s all the same to me.
To drown or to ride swift sails
Back to the edge of the shore.
Water fills my cabin now and
Nightmares aren’t just dreams anymore.

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Filed under poem, poetry

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