It’s come again, like it did two days ago
and a day before that and three before that.
Anguish disguised as wind battering my blue boat
cast upon Hades craggy rapids –
Hells Hole,
The Devils Playground,
Point-No-Point,
Pin Cushion,
Bleeding Out,
Lost,
each puckers up to suck me under
between the gods and the living.
I hover.
Breathing or not.
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