Beach Sunset

Beach Sunset

© Joanna Parypinski

The sun bleeds red
into the water.

I watched, unmoved, as God
slit his throat
and drained himself

into the line
between the red sea and red sky,
where you float, bloated
and blue
like a cold canoe

adrift. You—my mirror-smile,
the light in my eyes—took years
to drown,
and now seagulls
have tugged the eyes from your skull
for lack of fish,

left black-hole sockets blind
to celestial suicide—

and you
left me alone
on the windblown shore,

watching the sun melt
with a wave to its shadow-double
as it splatters
into the wet red grave.

The white nail-clipping of moon
rises, doppelganger of the fallen,
to sing its goodbyes,

and while you lie in the withering
light, the moon and I,
like ghosts,
will tiptoe through the night.

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “Beach Sunset

  1. There’s suppost to be a little fish >. That happened before on here. > . I’m just testing this out to see if dee fish will show. Have no qualms with deleting this comment.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s