Amenably

Summer sky of cerulean, the beach
a yard of brown bare feet. Each wave
a curve of perfect grace relinquishing
its grip. Isn’t it so pleasant here, and
isn’t it so fine? The rhythm of the water
could just lull me into sleep.

Won't you take a walk with me beyond
the rocks and sand. Ankle deep
then waist high, up to our necks
we look ahead—we pause for breath.
Then easily, like rain, we sink
submerged into the sea. Eyes open

underwater and we’re falling from
the ceiling as the current slips
and the pressure strains and it’s
quieter and colder here than one
would ever think. Nodding at you

I can finally sense what it’s like to be
awake—at the bottom of the ocean
where anchors have dragged,
at the bottom of the ocean where light
can’t reach; no castles, no coral
life; no chorus of sirens singing.

Years now, I’ve dreamt of drowning—
an immersion of silence sustaining
past panic, past fear, past guilt
for everything I haven’t felt.
Won't you, in the coldest dark of the
depths of the earth: take my pulse.

.