How We Drowned
       

When the earthquake hit,
I was peeling an apple,

but it wasn't an earthquake,
and it wasn't an apple—

we were in Atlantis again,
waiting for the sea floor

to stop trembling, and you
were removing a mask

to prove that you were not
just another character.

We were in the Atlantis
that spit lava ribbons

and bubbled white smoke
to the surface, and you

were removing a mask
to reveal a heartbreaking

lifespan. We don't last long,
and we screw around

with words, pretending
we're not real—not real real.

I was peeling an apple,
and it was spelling something,

but I was too worried
about my gushing heart

to see the letters. Or dog paddle
from death. Or take it all in.

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Copyright © 2016 Rob MacDonald All rights reserved
from Resuscitation Party
Racing Form Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission