red camellia drowning at sea, rush

tightening my veins and surges of panic

- then a sort of calm like a mother’s lull.
 

light and sap filter through the waves, i saw

my god you. you, you seemed to have everything

in your hands, convinced me that i could have

it all as well, if we touched palm to palm.
 

you made me a god, like you, drowning as

a baptization, water cascading

my nose every time your lips touched mine like

palmers do. you, cupid, and i, blind psyche.
 

but there are no such things as gods, so my

camellia blood washes out with the tide

instead of being revived by my sun, you.