Glass Poetry Press

Volume One Issue One

Frederick Lord

Diving Bell

All night we descended.
The pressure grew.

Suspicion crystallized
into accusation.

The baseboards
wept spiders.

Blind monsters we
had never known existed

circled each other
at crushing depths.

At dawn,
a flat yellow fish

swam to the window,
invited us out.

But we knew
one person's leaving

would drown both.