The water speaks 

with the exiting sultry purr of summer 

She says, 

Give me your grief & I’ll transform you. 

I hold onto a box standing there, 

Clinging, eyes wide 

Ignoring the ringing in my ears 

Now clutching with fervor 

Tears begging to connect with the other water. 

His water, her water, surely not MY water. 

Stuck 

In the undertow of my decisions. 

Begging for a revision 

Of life’s story. 

A pentameter 

A neologism 

An allegory

I’ll take a poem instead

Of the box. 

Trading discomfort 

For disillusionment. 

Frolicking in Faeville 

Where the truth is masked 

And I’m tasked with 

Giving the box to the water. 

If I cling too long my mind will suffer. 

Break 

Catastrophe

Collapsing 

Into the water. 

Lay down 

& 

Surrender the box.  

Peeling fingers back 

A crying child appears. 

Black eyed & sullen 

Now I call in 

Me & the water. 

Cleansing

Removing 

Relieving 

Transforming 

That grief into towering fields of 

Gold & flowers…

Watered.