Boating Reverie

The boat has arrived;

dock fogged and pearly white.

Weekend taken by the storm,

but as horrible state as

reverie came—

Hell or it

was destined to bleed.

So, with amaryllis and

chrysanthemum picked,

the boat held
onto me.

as fog blackened,

flowers fed off of gravity,

and the sea turned bloody;

but with waves of dead eyes and

spines scraping the metal

the boat

kept

still.