Archival remnant no 30 catalogue no DDP24
He dreamnt of her last night - and the deep
dark waters that separate.
She spoke to him, and led him to their edge
- only when it was too late did he realise that she was sending him into the
depths.
He went.
It was impossible for him to stop, so sweet
was her voice; so desperate was he for its Siren call.
But he found he could swim, even though a
thousand questions bubbled out of him as he slipped from this world.
He pulled himself to this shore, wet,
bedraggled of reason and he watched her as she walked with another on her
shore.
She didn’t look back of course, and he was
too stupid not to.
He started to walk away from the estuary,
toward the source.
He may cross over when the waters are
narrow.
He hopes that he doesn’t; it would be foolish.
But then, he is a fool.
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