anchor me, november

Erica Cervantes

I'd watch you fall and rise to my mind's tides,
but, darling, you'd break and break. Honeyed
filaments spill matter-less over tulle; you grasp
for pulsing vessels. Days loop naturalized into months
until my toes tangle in kelp, my hair floating like eels
to the Atlantic. Until weeds cast their fishnets upon
my legs, my nose bobs above the surface. And one
and two, one and two and neap. Remember Narcissus?
Remember November? I drown alone, an anchored
echo; you reflect in my whitewashed wake.