Mouthful of Ocean

“I promise.”
Your tilted dimple speaks differently.
You yank me into your rip current.
I want to leave the cold water,
but stay,
have to run from toxic tentacles,
but stay,
need to find calmer waters,
but fail
and stay.
I am a decomposing fish
tossed in your shorebreak,
the burn of ocean scraping my throat.