over.

you turn over in the bed the way
a wave rolls over the surface of the sea
back arched, prominent, in line with the sky,
the way the thought dully tumbles through my head
and spirals away from me,
over and over away from this ship
roll over and flatten out
eaten up by the blue surface
rinsing down to the bottom
through the sheets, out of my mouth
into the air
and forgotten by a conscious world