Circling the Drain

Cutting the cards to the
blank of hearts
              like trance music & sun stroke
to float the memory
                              sleazy but essential

tide shallows & the rocks there imprinted
with scripture of some sort
graffiti that predates any known language
or wireless reception
as maybe scarred with breath

              & no more shipwrecked kimonos
to worship in silhouette
                              where we’re the only survivors left
to blink         in the fog
                                                & wonder why