Wet Paper

Wet paper remains,

dying, by the

sides of your waves.

-

I watched my arms as they

slowly eroded, as they’d

begin to disintegrate.

-

Some would call it fate,

I called those fearful moments my Trenches

as all that seemed to make sense was

tossed aside

and held for later days.

-

By now, the sunset brought the horror

of the next sun that would rise,

the beginning of another burning day

in this anti-paradise.

-

I selected your name from the hat

after pulling a thousand other potential titles.

I wore it with less of the pride than was usual, but still, it was mine.

You knew it, too, even if not entirely,

but soon the cracks would appear.

-

We knew they would, but even as we sat and shook,

we tried to hide those arrears.

-

I became so delicate that

your sun made me disappear.

-

My tired head would riot

but to no avail.

Another homeless, nameless creature

not even a slug,

just a shell-less snail.