Scorpio

thirty.

I can feel the water now

I was born beside it

When the scorpion stars fell from their beds

Into a deeper darkness

And one more tangible 

How long did I drag myself 

Through the heaviness

Of quiescent lakes

Smoothing the rippled surface

with the palms of my hands

How long did it hang dormant beneath my skin?

It boils now

It rises up in neon red tide waves

It eats the shore

And crawls back into it's shallow grave

Fear struck 

Just as quickly

I can't make sense anymore, or beauty.

(The water does that now)