Sharks Gather Near Dark

Sharks Gather Near Dark

The water changes long before the eye can see it,

A dimming that settles gently over what once felt safe,

Light draws itself back in a quiet, careful retreat,

Leaving the surface holding something it cannot explain.

Beneath, there is movement without panic or noise,

A slow intention carried through muscle and memory,

No rush to reach what is already understood,

Only the steady pull of instinct rising into place.

The body feels it first, before thought can form,

A tightening across the chest that asks for air,

A silence growing thicker than it should ever be,

As if the sea itself has chosen to hold its breath.

Circles begin where nothing had marked their start,

Shapes passing just beyond the edge of knowing,

Close enough to matter, distant enough to doubt,

Each turn bringing them nearer without a single sound.

No malice lives inside what gathers in the dark,

No anger waits beneath those unblinking eyes,

Only a purpose as old as the tides themselves,

A claim that does not question who must answer.

The surface breaks too late to offer any grace,

A brief disturbance swallowed almost at once,

Leaving only ripples that fade into nothing,

As if no life had ever moved within that space.

Darkness settles fully where light once remained,

The water closes with a calm that feels misplaced,

What was taken leaves no mark behind to follow,

Only the knowing that something has been undone.

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