Slipstream

The girl drops 
the river;
woman bobs up;
aqua's flatline
on top basement 
blue, then it all,
violet doom, as
temperatue drops
off the girl—
aqua flatline,
sleezy sleet,
water glasses
on her nose,
scrub—
I'm touching
up, up, up.
down that
river before—
beyond swim's
flight; it runs
for the sky—
in someone's 
dead frame,
unseeable bank—
the woman passes
out, dry.

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Victor Buhagiar

Date: 8/3/2024 12:49:00 AM

There is great imagery in this poem and also a hint of mystery.

Ink Empress

Date: 7/31/2024 7:03:00 AM

Your words stream like an endless river, flowing with such descriptive words. Very interesting and intriguing sweet paige, perhaps you were observing something and wrote this? Well delivered, pleasure reading your work always