Drowning

 

You've dropped from view
afloat no more
sucked down into the icy maelstrom
of your creation,
leaving broken puka shells
in the coral rubble
and petrified driftwood
in your wake.

Your wake.
You lie
like the rest of the dead.
A painted corpse
reclining amid forsaken anemones
plucked from gardens of guilt.
"Not my guilt," I vow
from my gilt castle above it all.

One last look at the churning sea,
and I turn from my window
to curl before the glowing fireplace.

(c)2008 Lucie Raposo - All rights reserved (republished 2022)