anyway, i prefer wading

never learned to swim
taught myself to sink

dont mind drowning
not here, not now…
i flotsam in good glory

free will floats down
to the bottom of love

wishing we had met &
made time making babies

instead spittle dabs
the open palm & dries
in the creases of a life line
until time passes 
(cold molasses)

lips drop shadow
& poem drops a dime

so i raise up from shallow
waters / sir, knows
devoid of cogitation:

this side of grass
was always green.