POETRY: Grief

Grief

is a creature

of the deep, a

many-tentacled thing

With an embrace

that sucks

your breath away.

Down, down you fall

together, entangled,

the maze of

snarled limbs

impossible to untwine.

Chest burning, you

struggle for air

uselessly, endlessly—

the surface impossibly

far away and

steadily receding.

Just when all

is lost, when you are

ready to concede,

you realize—

the knots have

loosened slightly,

or,

you have grown

accustomed to the

crushing weight,

or,

maybe, somehow—

you have grown gills.