Echoes of Drowned Desire

Text from her number—my best friend who drowned three years ago. “still outside”

Last night: “in the bed” I woke to her naked body pressed against mine,

skin ice-cold and slick with lake water, full breasts heavy on my chest,

thighs straddling me tight. Her wet hair dripped down my throat as she kissed me slow,

forcing black water past my lips—thick, tasting of decay and desire. Her bloated fingers

slid between my legs, gentle and cruel, while her tongue filled my mouth

with silt.