he floats
small
with light
like a halo
of white
sea
foam
a dog ring
of moon
alone
no rescue
above
the dark
salt stiff shroud
a lost one
adrift
in pain
like an ocean
no real name
for this
which
through original gills
and wreathed
in glowing sea worms
breathes
eyeless and
beyond all saving

taken

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Sometimes, things just won't work the way we want them to.