In liquid, the descent stretches, switches seconds for hours,
a viscous slither in slow motion, when before he
walked, now he hangs from a thread, fell
once & was consumed into

amniotic oblivion, a darkness that only darkens, the deeper
pull of fluid in the ears, fluid in the gut, the dizzying midnight
muted mauve of shut eyes, the carmine of the insatiate
gulp, of a life spent on tumble in that maw –

permanent, suspended, detached from his body and his
will; both, a riddle who his murderers
could possibly be, the slow snatch of his person still
as mystifying as the ship sailed

away in the night: the silent sea, demure salt on
sand without that which moves it, the drowned unharmed.