Coronach

the reflection of me
in your eyes is
like the reflection of the sea
in the glass of a mirror
on the wall of a house
that’s slipping into
the blue-gray water

the sea locks everything
a thousand fathoms down
and gives back shadows
and whispers

of maidens drowned
and trinkets lost
in cold black depths
that swallow and hold

sand in your pockets
shells in your hair

and messages
deprived of
a bottle

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