… no time to write one today, so here’s a very old teenage one that ties in with the theme of ‘water’:
Pull yourself underwater, wash
the women from your eyes let the big
hum of sepia tickle your ears and fill your lungs with echo.
like a shipwreck rinse the
buzz off your lips let the wet smear of your mouth
slip into platitudes
bloat your emotions, drench me with insincerity
my heart is a dry-fist and I have no thirst left.
(dry-fisted: taking payment for gains and owing for losses)