You wade into the sea,

the vast ocean that has become us;

the tide is in, seizing

you in its bleak emptiness.

Your screams are drowned,

your apologies bitter, the saltiness

dehydrating—

I spit them out, throw

you a rope burned

to ash by our blinded

hatred. You ask me

how I could toss the oars, you say

I’m the reason we’re drifting

apart, why the rudder

can’t be fixed—you’re right,

I am, but you tossed

the compass, we’re lost

with no direction. I’m setting

sail, I’m saving

us,

our sanity, by letting go—

you should let go, too—

you’re barely afloat.