Poem #2 for the New Yorker magazine

We dug together silently
a black hole that would take us.
Unknowingly ending in tragedy
and leaving arguments to discuss.

Every time the shovel hit the ground
there was no pulling back.
We had no idea where we were bound
or what was about to attack.

Inside the darkness swallowed
every tear we ever shed.
The emptiness quickly followed
the dreadful things you said.
Our happiness drowned like a sunken chest.
I am sorry for building this hollow nest.

--Down to Earth