there is a paper mosaic of you
in my mind, keeping me
afloat.
in these open waters,
I search for words that would
have parted this sea, like Moses.
I am a storyteller and yet
I could not speak, my lungs being filled
with saltwater.
It must have been good to know
a couple of tricks to make you still
swim here with me, but you're already
at the shore,
but at least that makes this drowning
a little bearable.
