Water Snail

you died sometime in the days

i was lain in dusty 

sheets a gentle death

possibly surrounded by molded

water and a careless mind. 

and much like you i 

don’t know what to do with the 

water snail’s body. 

i sit, even now, staring at the tank,

the water dumped into the sink, 

swirling down the drain,

and the clear plastic box sits sideways

on the edge of the bowl 

with a soft mushy body

lost somewhere in the piled up

rocks. 

sun warm as my skin is,

in this wide windowed apartment,

there isn’t enough ventilation 

to let out the stench of its body.

so i try and ignore it for the time being

while i open again you and your

plays.

in my mind, i go again

to the bar where i watched

you, an omen, and more omens

and more omens and more

undulate in soft fair lighting

a task i was not fair enough to complete. 

but i don’t have to speak and you still know that. 

still i remained

and more i remained

in places i didn’t yet belong or

possibly never would. 

water snails need company too, 

the eyeless creature is not without 

the feeling of solitude  

and much like i, there is a bubble of 

dust around the body of the 

lonely snail.

with no drain large enough to flush its shell

and no will to extract its hollow body of slime, 

i plot out all of the ways to rid my house of its carcass

and decide that for now it will remain.  

but i, much like 

you died sometime in the days

i was lain in dusty 

sheets a gentle death

possibly surrounded by molded 

water and a careless mind.