Diving, splashing, kicking with fury,
handfuls of water
diverting myself towards the deep,
towards the blackness,
...
The leaves, first silent,
Jump but a foot or two,
Scurrying past the dormant grass,
Across the morning dew.
...
Breathless
Diving, splashing, kicking with fury,
handfuls of water
diverting myself towards the deep,
towards the blackness,
Breathless.
I could surface, I suppose.
What good would come of it?
The deep chills me,
fills me,
Breathless.
The rays of sun betray the surf above,
but I prefer
the tickle of vacant shells
pouring between my fingers,
Breathless.
The darkness calls to me,
demands I should respond,
instead I gasp,
mouth overflowing,
Breathless, I am drowned.