Drowning.

 

When love

cuts deep

with grieving,

one immersion

bleeds into

the next.

 

If she gave

herself

in forgiveness –

would her shadow

follow her?

 

She unconsciously

weaves threads

of the past

summoning shroud

of the future.

 

Touched twice

in the laver

submerged in her

saviour’s perdition.

 

Condemned to

cold isolation

wet and dripping

with desire

in the font

of being saved.

 

Saved.  But not quite free.

 

 ©  Katypoetess 2016