The Lorelei

"You've drowned me, you know," I say, Looking back at the places, the people That I once knew, long ago, Under different stars, a different roof. For how is it, that when I dwell on Your faces; our shared secrets Welling up to the disturbed surface Of my mind, I cannot see Anything beyond my past, Sunning itself on the shores of time, Preening, knowing only it can hold me now. That languid Lorelei, knowing, but Barely caring about my need for it. It drags me down below sparkling waves Echoing each other, stroking the shore, Where I get tangled in webs of seaweed, Dreams deferred, love songs, metaphors, What I have known, what I have lost. The memories return with a vengeance, Bind my wrists and ankles. But it doesn't matter that I am bound To my past, full to brimming with all its demons, Because I do not want to resurface, Though I can't hold my breath any longer. Water rushes into my mouth, Collapses my lungs; the pain Is a distant memory, the pressure Of the water on my skull might Have happened years ago, because That is the future; the past is forever: My days rewinding in torturous repetition. This is how it must be. Otherwise, what would I do? Admit that what I base my existence on Is but a dream belonging to Sunny shores and shimmering seas?