Sometimes it’s rain

or the swimming pool

in your neighbors backyard.

Most often it’s beside your bed

in the clear glass

which you accidentally knock over in the night

as you adjust your pillow.


Without any evidence of a mind,

you know it wants you back,

luring you to the warm ocean of a bathtub

where it could drown you dead,

if you slipped under

and agreed to recycle yourself

and return to its possession

most of what you are.




DeMaris Gaunt




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