MAL DE MER
Not sure if I'm even buoyant,
let alone to sink. I roll and wobble
with the rolling punches. Staring
out, I see only sea-fog.
-
And what a sensation that is.
Two times two, this blurry
world begs me; 'Come now,
hither and this way, and yon!'
It's all I can do to stand.
-
Begone! I try to shout, but
only bile exits. And then I
realize, it's not the sea,
it's me.
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