30:30 2013 - 2

Sponge Left in Abdomen S/P

I remember being new. Then dark
panic and counting far away. There must

have been reason in between. Or orders,
at least. I mustn't assume what fills me

is purpose. If this crimson is purpose,
it surrounds me. Bad luck, I'd say,

to drown so completely you become
the sea. A second way of being

new, the world without thirst.