I am terrified of ships,

arrogant as they

taunt ice

and pitch barbs at waves.

I know what it is to leak,

for the rain to flood my sneakers.

I know how it feels when the sea runs out

of my eyes,

violent, silent,

and the horrid salt leaves me thirsty for days.

 

Water plays the sheep gently in summer storms.

I too have been a lover strolling down streets wet

with leaked cloud

and felt almost thrilled.

 

But then I slept.

I dreamed,

and the water rose higher and higher,

crested over me and I drowned.

 

Now I watch the ports carefully,

listen to ships boast and jeer.

The water whispers its dark plans.

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