“and now i feel no sign of you…
where once you were on my heart
at the moment of rising,
now you are strangely absent
and i miss your sickness”
– ancient poem, not about love

i am contaminated

you’ve found yourself
curiously in my thoughts

black water shaped around you
moving more than i thought you could
the tail gone, it looked like
you were human after all

search light on you
naked at the port
knocked about in a wave or two
never washing out

a circumstance becomes a happening
are you mine, refugee