Wordle #85 and Writing Prompt #131 “NoEnd House Part 9″

Week 85

I drown in a mutilating plexus,

My ungainly migration hardly

Worth mention but essential if

I am to escape the water

Welling up inside.

I am neither penitent nor nonchalant.

What happens within, stays within.

The kelp gathers in phases

First my ankles than finally

My nickle-plaited heart,

At which point I am scarcely worth

The illusion of saving.

We had a good thing going

Cagestruck and mollycoddled

We wept and wandered shamelessly

Through unwelcoming streets,

Two perfect zeros in a city of primes.

The melanin has gone from your eyes

And the fire from your once implacable tongue

Has found a disparaging farce in silence.

Fiercely stroking your embers I wonder

How did it every come to this?

Your tiny submersible heart clicking

Like a clutch of unattended chickens.

Tonight is a night of firsts, a night of deaths,

A night of seams torn and scars cast.

Whose pain can be quantified

And whose is beyond measure?

Cagestruck- to be clueless of the customs, dialect, and haunts of an unfamiliar city