Boating Reverie

A dark poem

The boat has arrived;
dock fogged and pearly white.

Weekend taken by the storm,
but as horrible state as
reverie came—
Hell or it
was destined to bleed.

So, with amaryllis and
chrysanthemum picked,
the boat held
onto me

as fog blackened,
flowers fed off of gravity,
and the sea turned bloody;
but with waves of dead eyes and
spines scraping the metal

the boat
kept
still.