Water Levels

We were alone. It was night.

Fingers outstretched and grappling.

Mine for yours, and yours for something different.

Your pale skin glowing in the dark.

My own personal moon. But you were twice as cold.

Where were your fingers? Entwined in another’s hair?

Turning the page of your novel, ending my chapter?

All I could tell was that you were elsewhere.

And I was still here.

 

I kept you at arms length.

Opening the window, letting you make your own decision

About staying or leaving.

But the water levels rose, and the waves rolled in.

At first, they soaked our ankles, so we were able to ignore them

But riptides don’t like to be overlooked, so they became more violent.

And now we’re trapped in this current.

 

The salt is making my lungs heavy and burning my eyes.

I’ve gone blind. Yet, my hands are still fluttering beneath the water.

You swim freely. I drown trying to catch up.

We’re swimming in circles.

Around and around, the same waves wash over us again and again.

I slip further beneath the surface.

 

And then, I get a life preserver.

My head breaks the surface and I gasp for air.

I reach for the sun and flip its switch on.

 

The water is draining. The window is open.

You are gone along with the waves.

 

I dry out and am left with salt.

Scooping it from my mouth and eyes, I can finally breathe and see again.

What appears in front of me is calm.

I take a breath and enjoy the sun

Waiting for something new

To break the horizon.