You were the fountain flowing, and I
what you swallowed up --
a dark leaf by the wind mislaid.
From the first rush I was drowning,
spilling past your tongues of wet
like a parting kiss,
a capsized ship,
a last breath.
Why you kept me in your circuit
(I, limp in the drift)
a busy current never told,
nor would your face, cascading
as it spat diamond drops
on bottom-loving gleams --
heavy pennies,
waterstones.
So I, floating, could only go with you, sailing
atop the budding fount
and plunging down, aswim in vertigo
and placelessness.
It was there, in occult waters,
that I called out peace,
tree-roots broke you,
then the merciful drain.
