Unswept by the tsunami of future
My wife stood atop;
All others in my net and pen
Iron chest of love
Perished in the maelstrom
So cheaply
As coastal luxury- beach.
Crippled by loneliness
Drowned in the mud of sleeplessness
Clad like a refugee
Bearing the curse of a smile
Left to live by my stinking bed.
I heard my screeching in her shuddering lips
Shrinking lids and nostrils
She’s indeed the only transit to life.
