Depth
Deep is neither
party conversation
nor the subject of Valentines.
It seeps into the
crevices
under
fingernails
and
the
caverns
of
ears.
Internal
and
curvaceous,
it is hard to get
right to the point of.
Deep does not put down roots––it is roots.
Betrayal, breaking glass
and tunnels leading to
dark wombs that bear us anew
to rock us harshly
and swaddle us in pain.
Deep, I am
sometimes deep,
at other times
swift cold water
with surface
swirlings
or mist
rising
through
sunlight
clarified
by
deep
shadows.



