.:Broken Sea; Mint:.

 

like wild water; out of order
rapids rapidly wrapping us up
that’s what was up
that undertow, so went the flow
rapid fire, then the sinking. wet
metaphor of a broken sea

breathtaking; a smell of mint
like she & it… tit for tat
her rat-atat-tat hit my tit
that was it

going over that edge; we
didn't hedge
that plunge we  took
we went
faster & faster

straight
down
our approach
speeding up disaster

she being the blaster
her anger her master  
my thinking
maybe; perhaps
I may out last her

her anger; crazy
absent of trust
surely it had me
for certain
had
us

carrying
us down
by
speeds
undetermined
the kind that's a warning
on a Sunday sermon

no parachute, no nothing  
breaking down our descent
just a quick study of
what this fool really meant

nothing to me
but she couldn't forget
no talk; the sidewalk
broken cement.

           



..

photo: Amber Indigo