I watch as you thrash your skinny arms
And slap the face of the sea.
I do nothing.
Staring blind.
Conscience unharmed.
I’m not really in the mood for a show right now, anyway.

You have a script fully prepared.
Agony-ridden, your Forté.
Well, the curtains have been closed for
quite some time.

Hey…you’re touching!
Toes dig into the submerged earth.
And out emerge shrieks and gasps for air
Ever-present.

Well, I will offer you this:
I’ll let you decompose yourself
For those whose names you can’t recall.
And as for me,
Well,
Like the willows encasing your howls
And echoing your reverberating torment,
Ill let my roots undo in time
And let the starving sea swallow you whole.

You will not be rescued tonight.
Not by me.