the hollow echo of a shout in a sinking submarine has the ring of comfort to it. something cold & restful about the tinfoil crumpling of the hull as it slips deeper & lower, gasping out expanding bubbles. maybe you can hear someone clawing at the bulkheads like i can. i hope you can. i'll go soon to join the mermaids & you'll see how doom can mean freedom & victory. go right ahead & drag me under. i will wait until your flashlight dims to dark before i leave. then i'll shudder & growl like the thresher. i'll unfold like a switchblade & swim away with the piscine urban legends. i'll disperse in the water like ink. huddle around sulphur vents to stay warm. dip long finger into old ice drifts to pull out familiar fossil friends from far away. cave fish coloured & green eyes glowing i'll wait in the seaweed draped ruins of sunken ships, somnambulant, slithering silently. sleep & soon sleep no more. that is not dead which can eternal die, they say. waiting for my strange eon.