Sinking

how would you see anything
anything
if your vision is blocked
by a parasite
on the shores of hope
in the waves
of anticipation
touching your feet
at every stroke
sinking you in
the porous
tomorrow
sinking
in
today,
disappearing
              feet
      legs
         palms
    chest,
eyes
look up
to their companion
waving at the horizon
drowning
red dark spots
hover in the sight
and a crescent
above
it's getting dark
and the spots,
dark red,
are also drowning
in a darker background
        time
to go
       home


5 3 '17