Tomorrow

How did you know
That I would be there
when you jumped, arms
circling, legs kicking,
from the balcony
into the night?
You couldn't have
seen me.
Or did you trust
the water to muffle your
landing, the waves's crescendo
drowning out the splash
as you threw yourself
to the ocean's mercy?
Did you think
you would last long,
in those shark-infested waters?
Or did you hope for dolphins,
those horribly-smiling
creatures whose laughs
drive them away
to carry you to shore?
I don't trust them. They're
too jolly. Like
Irnese merchants; they'll
smile at you brilliantly
as they slip their fingers
into your pockets, and, if
you catch them, their knives
into your heart,
and then slip away
into the alleys.
I know
who you were running from,
so I won't ask,
but why did you choose
now
of all times to do so?
Was your situation so dire, that
death would be preferable
to another moment
in his company? In any case,
I hope you think
next time, before you
jump off a ship
into the ocean
without even a float;
vomiting all the seawater
out isn't fun, is it?
You daft lofty. There.
Now let's get you to bed.
You've a long story to tell, tomorrow.