glazed against

the sculpt,
of your underwater eyes

sweeping proximal
to the
hazel sphere:
a tide
whispered to deaf ears

you first dove with
an everlasting arm
winged south
to where you lie

buoyant against
the current,
head misshaped,
misused

a lambent curse,
the eggshell’s gift.
with time,
segments of your brain
split like clementine,

you thought too hard,
and it caught up with you

blatant figures and
red flags,
meshed with eloquent waters
and delicate tides

your mind was always
waiting:

the sea held its breath
but
the first to go was
you.