Observations on a Drowning
by Joseph Robert

It does not matter that she soils herself,
if she offers at once both hands
to the mud, or only
one foot at a time.

“I don’t care, it’s ok”.

He sees her ankles submerge,
feet continue to move
crossing fingers and toes,

He watches her
suffocate. The filth does not concern her
She does not seem to mind.
The defiling.
Dirty, dirtier. He can no longer,
her knees..

It amazes him that,
in just that little bit of water
mouth, hands and eyes still move.

She vomits the necessary thing.
The panic-the vomit,

She does not matter to him
“Won’t you miss me?”
Her soul scatters across the pool.

“If I could only be who you want”.



The Truth in a Whisper by Daire Lynch