red camellia drowning at sea, rush
tightening my veins and surges of panic
- then a sort of calm like a mother’s lull.
light and sap filter through the waves, i saw
my god you. you, you seemed to have everything
in your hands, convinced me that i could have
it all as well, if we touched palm to palm.
you made me a god, like you, drowning as
a baptization, water cascading
my nose every time your lips touched mine like
palmers do. you, cupid, and i, blind psyche.
but there are no such things as gods, so my
camellia blood washes out with the tide
instead of being revived by my sun, you.