Down We Go

Low-light in the tunnel;
self and its many limbs
reach out for something
to hold onto. The voice
a siren's song calling
its victims- pray for us.

When we turn away from
the mouth, we are left with
hunger. Zipped up, eyes
are like stones weighing heavy,
smooth and silent. Tell us
this is not final.

Down we go like a forgotten
language. Down we go swallowed
by the gold-lined gullet. How does
the grape feel in our throats
or the small piece of apple
that nearly destroyed us?

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