by John Grey
you speak in lakes
and dead mothers
the universe
nests like water
in your head
for a swimmer like you
there’s no such thing
as drowning
just prayers
for anything floating
on the surface
of the years gone by
the mercy
that’s the reason
you have eyes
meanwhile
all you offer me
is a shoreline
a rock
soft sand
to run a finger through
you splash
make echoes
that fade in my distance