In those gauzy summer days,my cells were porous,the bulwarks were yet to be built.
A shabby man slid inthrough my wide-open smile.
He was a slippery eel,cloaked in the darknessof the unfathomable deep.
His body was an elastic band.It sprang out and stung my insides untilhis hurt was stuck there.
And the ion exchange of mymembranous innards ceasedand potassium chloride spilled out onto the New York City sidewalks,illuminating the ground glass in the dark.
Sharp shards embedded themselves in my heartThe years trod slowly, suspended in the stagnant waterof a tidal pool that never washed itself out.
Until I came to the night ward,that collection of brokenness and hope.Those sick, spare souls swimmingupward towards the light.
They opened me up again.
Perhaps it was the collective sighthat escaped from a dying man’s lipsas the church lights shone across the dark avenue lined with trees.
The clear blue of the ocean deep swam in.And then out.The salt dissolved the knotsin my stomach.
And nowI am a Nemo amongst the anemonesand I won’t get lost again.
Photo by Elliot Mann on Unsplash