Curling, uncurling, like reeds underwater,

Fingers wrapping around an imaginary hand

Held out in assistance. A sigh escapes two

Bloodless lips; the body sinks back to the earth,

Unaided, exhaustion coursing through the veins

And settling the mind into a cocoon,

of numbness, not comfort; the lines blur.

Lightning splits open the sky and it weeps

Upon cool skin, unaware of the water

Pooling just at the base of the neck.

Two unseeing eyes blink, and a weary mouth

Sickened by repetition, twists itself,

Out of habit, to say, "I'm sorry," just audible

Over the lament of frogs in the night.

Sheets of rain force the eyelids together

And the cold ground dissolves beneath, but only just.

There is warmth once more: a shard of sunbeams

That sits itself down and stretches itself out

And slips an arm along the other that needs it most.

The world was melting away; it reshapes itself.

Curling, uncurling fingers around something real.

The bloodless lips move once more, "Thank you."