Deeper

An autumn memory
Water slicking so vividly over smooth stones
They heaved like the long form of a dragon—
And I fed the dragon copper and felt the cold,
And I wished purely to save somebody’s life.

When did they die?
Those years when every crisis, every trial
Was the struggle of a soul
And not a person?—
Was pinpricks like crashing ice water,
And blood purpling to the surface with every gesture?—
When every friend was forever
And every love was the truth?—
When I spread my arms out under thunderstorms
And danced till my organs were soured with sky?—
When organs rocked the gardens of Biltmore
And we drove through at sunset
And I prayed, in the crashing icewater with bruising expressions,
For people, rain, and knowledge, prayed to dance?—
Prayed for his life?

When did they die?
When did I stop existing as a puddle of sky-soured rain
And become a beautiful doormat icked with mud?
When did the hurricanes stop coming,
The bruises stop bubbling,
The sun stop setting?—
When did I stop praying—
When was there no longer someone to save?