By Peycho Kanev
Under your skin there’s another deeper layer of pale skin, more fragile.
Then I dived in it and swam to the large rock in the middle, which I saw from
I did not drown. You dragged me out of your bloody sea before I could reach
my destination, your heart.
And yet I drowned, but it took me years to figure it out.
Peycho Kanev is the author of six poetry collections and three chapbooks published in the USA and Europe. His poems have appeared in many literary magazines, such as Rattle, Poetry Quarterly, Evergreen Review, Front Porch Review, Hawaii Review, Barrow Street, Sheepshead Review, Off the Coast, The Adirondack Review, Sierra Nevada Review, The Cleveland Review and many others. His new chapbook, Under Half-Empty Heaven, was published in 2018 by Grey Book Press.
Image: “Bloody Sea,” William O. Pate II, 2019