Confessions of a storm

January 21, 2013 § Leave a comment

ImageHis mouth is the open circle of a drowning man, swallowing air as if it were water, swimming still against the ground. I am the water dragging him to the seabed where the light doesn’t shine and where bodies no longer rise—they sink with the force of gravity.

When they find him drowned and lying in the grass I will cry for I know my part in it. Here even when I hear his words they move slowly through the liquid air that surrounds us thick and strong. I can see his death as if it had already happened.

Jesus, come and save me from the storm, from the storm from the flood, the flood waters that envelope us. Jesus I am a torrent of cold, cold water swimming faster through the creek beds, faster from the murky sky. I am constant agitated condensation sticking to the lining of your lungs making you choke and making you sick.

Your weight makes me a sinker.


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