Vessel

In dreams, I stand on the deck
of a cruise ship, cutting the glass
of a Norwegian fjord — silent,
ghost-like, drifting through stars
and green cascades of light.

To say I don’t know where the sky ends
and the water begins would be a lie —

I know the slow, subsonic thud
of the propeller, churning water
deep beneath my feet.
I know this ship’s heartbeat,
the groan of its inner workings —

I know the shockwave,
sent from sternum to gut
when I wake, coiled
in my bed like a maggot
in the folds of a wound.
I know this cold — these depths.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/vjksq3/christmas_at_the_home/idm3qqb/

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/vjp9zk/goodnight_last_light/idm084o/