She becomes a singularity for long nights at a time, when the hours no longer match. Sinking directly down like a solid lead weight into glassily placid black waters. I watch her struggle to swim from a detached shore. I extend a hand rife with wounds she's never seen. She won't reach for any lifeline. Hers is to drown to sleep, and be reborn again in a psychotic display of dry-heaving and self-vicissitude. I remember her aquatic dance very well, and still bear her fish hook scars across my aorta.
11:10 p.m. - 2016-03-14
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