I Washed Over You

I washed over you,
a desperate beat -
tsunami in minor,
so little left in its wake.


The steady trickle -
does it keep you up at night?


Dust-laden crevices
edge the window pane;
the screen scarcely guards
against imaginings of what lies 
in the shadowed darkness 
of the wooded yard and beyond.

Straight flushed
from your life, or is it mine?
I ebbed to your flow, bobbing
while you were sinking.

Victims aren't always preyed 
upon, or left hapless on the shore.


I said, 


Swim, swim, I'll help you.
Don't look back now.
Just breathe.


You chose to settle in the foam.