September 1, 2007
By Taylor Freret, Los Altos, CA

PMountains of water, growing, growing The sea is not blue—lies; black, blacker Like a hole, enveloping, suffocating Sputtering breaths, choking on salt I claw to stay afloat—but only waves Fingers slash through the flood Arms sinking—lead weights Avalanches of oceans crashing around me Thundering roars, screams lost on the barbaric sea Lost like I am—fighting, scratching air And water are one Face molested by torrents; canÕt feel tears on my flesh Are there any? Thrashing legs ache, arms plummet Gasp—water—gasp Chaos batters, bludgeons two tiny nostrils Then— Peace on a sandy shore, miles below.

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