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The Disappearance of Thwaites

She failed to fall

so I caught her,

dragging her down

beneath the foamy brine.

A fitting end

to a siren’s life:

Obscure beneath

the froth of frivolity.


She told me life

is just a game;

a chessboard set

for the players’ next move.

Her queen is lost,

her king is toppled.

Floating, she fades

into her oblivion.


Her vengeance comes,

measured and swift.

Watery hands

seize my throat in their grip.

I hear her words

as a warning now.

The tide rises.

With her final act, I drown.

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