shallow

A wondrous thing 
her puddle was, 
wondrous, and terrible as well 
for it was not too deep - 
(the same might be said of her) 
and this may or may not - be true - 
(as it may be with anyone) 
its condition - dependant 
upon many things  
outside itself 
(as it may be with anyone) 
 
like rain - 
Sun, and 
and always, 
the possibility of boys  
seeking new novelties; 
in the end, it was this 
shallow, 
and had she ever known another - 
they'd likely think the same  
of her. 
 
likely, but 
they’d be mistaken; 
for it was more her  
situation in life; 
in her puddle 
(for this is how she came to - think 
of it). 
that was not so deep 
and being all she knew, she 
adjusted - 
only half breathing - 
using 
just parts of herself - 
for each breath; 
one eye up, unblinking 
one eye in the mud, unseeing 
half cool and wet; 
and, one half warm, 
and usually 
uncomfortable. 
(except on rainy days, 
oh how she loved those days) 
she didn't like to think 
about winter. 
 
and so she lived 
 
once, after praying 
for eyelids, 
she wondered - if she  
had approached, 
the Correct gods 
and, 
in the appropriate order. 
(or if gods cared of such things 
of eyelids and of order) 
or was it 
(despite best intentions) 
that the Proper prayers,  
had not spoken 
or had been spoken,  
but incorrectly; 
(or if gods cared  
at all) 
in the end, 
she thought, it was most likely due to her 
apparent “Lack of Depth.” 
(this she came up with on her own) 
 
the days without blinking  
in Sunshine have made her 
blind; and, perhaps that itself 
was the answer to the prayers. 
(dutifully she noted to be more 
precise in future requests) 
 
but blind 
can moonlight still bathe me  
she wondered; 
can the dreams of  
something called 
ocean still touch me? 
 
and so she slept 
one eye blind 
one eye buried in 
the mud. 
and dreamt - of rain - 
and sun - 
and boys - 
and of the thing her bones  
remembered, 
the thing she called  
her ocean.