You freed me
Tipping, turning
Tugging, tapping
You tunneled
Underneath the pain
Not once retreating
From the breadth
Of it
The depth
Of it
The wet grave
Heaviness
Of it
Until it could
Be named
Made lighter
Smaller, drier
Something
I could
Cough up
Spit out
Stomp on
Walk away from
Leave behind
© Barbara Moore 2009
The World According to Goldfish Vol II - Sight 2009