(be strong

there is water

i am drowning

(not quite but soon to be)

swathed in

teardrop garlands and misted pearls

(gently evanescing though my skin blisters still, from the cold)

i know you are trying

to rescue me

(you never stop fighting)

and your hand hovers so near

that i might touch it

(were i not frozen)

i am lost

in a city of memory

you hold the key i think but nobody has told you of this

the door could pop ajar and

there you would stand

(eyes sparking akin to strong magic)

(be strong!)

(i can’t always be strong)

maybe the sight of you

(if i should remember the feel of you and the timbre of your tender love-words at my ear)

will spur a thaw

prick the obstinate membrane of what has been, what is, and what is to be

there is water

i am drowning

(if you don’t save me i’ll start to cry)

one tear wells to freeze, a wasp-sting of cold at the curve of my eye

but is snatched by water, as happens to everything

i didn’t think the cold water

would be warmer than your warm hands resting but a breath from my wrists

(somehow, it)

(is)