Shudder and stare
The ability to swim is not there
Sitting in the corner alone
All that can be heard are your words and your moan.
I want to go back,
That is what you say,
As you body turns slowly and then begins to sway.
A longing for return,
Without frostbite or burn,
A longing for a better date in time,
Yet for that I carry no more rhyme.
© 2012 Christy Birmingham