Drowning in Sweetness

I leaned over the rim;
vertigo dragged me
into the well’s unblinking eye
until the mountains vanished.

Unmoored.

Heavy, cold, damp air—
wet moss, cold iron, old earth.
A breath that had never known daylight.

Still, I drank.

The water slid velvet down my throat,
a polished stone
dropping through my chest.

It carried a gravity
that found the cracks in my bones;
a sweetness not sugar
but the stone-deep quiet
the mountain keeps.

The well is boarded now, the light cut off—
yet the sweetness lives in my bones.

I have tasted the roots
of the mountain
that swallowed me whole.