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