Coming Up

Underneath the blanket

The oxygen ran out so I had to come up.

I had to throw off the blanket,

The color of corals and the mistrals of the deep

The unbreakable blackness

Where shrimps hide

In little crevices of soul

Limpets cling to skin and fish swim through

Lungs filled with black, tarry water.

 

Come up, come up again

Breathe.

Touch the skin, check the pulse.

Breathe in all the impurity of life.

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