Blood-shaking.

There is a flitting spark between-and-in
passes back and forth to die when held.
like breathing, cycle-breaths -
trapped underwater we are
you with the tank and I here
a burden.
Scrawling worlds in lipstick and charcoal on your visor,
they are back-to-front to me
so that perhaps you will see that I tried,
and maybe you will read them
to comfort me

if I drown I have made my purpose clear
i do not care
but you press the mask to my face again
and anti-suffocate me
here in the kelp like a hair-noose
the stones too livid
dead things, they float like smoke
in the rippling light raped by the waves

i keep thinking of teeth
of pulling them out
of meanings

I want you to be the possibility
of someone listening,
just once.