DEAD WATER

by Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

In the dead water
I walked
and not even
a ripple.

Filled with grief
I called her name.

I tousled with
the silver shark
of my  imagination.

I called for her
and the water hardened
like a marble floor.

I was up to my waist
immersed in
the dead water.

I was not walking anymore.