beneath my room
flows a river
every now and then
a song
cracks the floor
and the river
swallows me whole* * *
my sadness
– when it comes –
grabs me with its skinny arm
pulls me below the surfacethe next morning
my clothes are crisp and clean
and underneath my feet
one mile of bedrock* * *
i’m crying
in the shower
my face
contorted with pain
are these tears i’m tasting?
or just waterwho cares?
isn’t this funny?
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