Kaleidoscope eyes see
tsunamis
destructive green angels

drowning
my father, strong mind,
invincible eyes,

cancerous body.

Two Months Left to Drown

I.
Day or night it's dim outside,
like a night-light hallway,
and I can't seem to tell time
without a watch.

II.
Charcoal-dark oak laughs
at umbrella-bobbing bodies
afraid of getting wet from above,
but not from below.

III.
Mildewed toes
muddy-bottomed jeans
flood season

IV.
Sidewalks washed away by
a stellar-born waterfall
that drowns even fish.

V.
Hail becomes fingernails
tapping
on drainpipe outside my window.

VI.
Feels like I'm standing under a colander -
some celestial being must be making pasta.

VII.
Storm clouds are decomposing
fingers, beckoning
from a moldy graveyard

VIII.
Sitting on the bus
huge eyes clear of a finger-drawn face look
at me from a steam glass surface.
Slow-sliding water drop inches down
from the corner of a pupil.
transparent iris
crying from the inside out
condensed drop of loss.

Crystal Koch-Atamian