For a split second
I’ll seep myself out
and leave your
veins’ rainspout
without!
-thundered the cross-legged fisher
so as to suffuse
the last breathing
of my waterlogged
fissure.

The best is yet to come
be sure to bind your corporature
against the next recessive dam.
Don’t reck of the tailing after flotsam.
This is your very surreptitious whim
the bottomless submersion
under your skin

I sipped at the obverse respirator
until I was to glimpse
- there floated
my own dessicated limbs.
Will I be such
of my own scarce avail?
Will these foolhardy far-flung
ever fail?
I’ll leave it up
to the searchings of my heart
as soon as it has floated about.