This is my temporary fix. I'm gonna continue to work with this new version while at home, but I don't expect this version is much better than the last. It's more to-the-point.
Burial
Rocks dwell under the cold crests sifting grain from the cracks. I thought I could withstand its strength, but I was wrong. I'm frail. I drudge forward yet the mud persists to pull me deeper. Both feet cringed and eyes swollen, coarse hairs gritting bone with skin, struck by water harsh as nails, my form shreds. Joints numb, they crack like ice. My spine crunches and I flail as sheer, thick sheets slide down my lungs, teeth stung. Crushed and gagged, I snap in the rapids. Dropped stones fade and hearts sink. People off-shore watch this tide, awe-struck. Its flux, its ebb, its course... They are ghosts, now. Some time has gone and underneath the ice flows I sway- a muted shifting.
Burial Floods and cold crests Shift grain from Dwelt rocks Its strength sweeps line By line, cracks Dredged deep White specs dance, flares Of sprees rush Like wasps I thought I could Stand its strength As stone I've sunk in, stuck I was wrong — I'm frail I drudge each foot Hands thrash out Splash down Stern mud pulls me Both feet cringe Eyes swell These coarse hairs grit Bone with skin Fringed, caged, Trapped, struck by nails My form shreds Joints numb Crack hard, like ice Break and flail Freeze burns Sheer, thick sheets slide Down my lungs Teeth stung Gagged, crushed, I snap — Dropped stones fade, Hearts sink. The ghosts off-shore Watch this tide Awe-struck Its flux, its ebb, Its course, breeze Draft, whir Some time has gone Ice still washed Cruel flows Deep in those flows I still sway Mute shift
