I like to slip, just beneath the water’s lip
where surface sound distorts like crumpled thunder
where surface light refracts in perfect brokenness where the blanket of its weight-caress, embraces
where time is just another current past
it’s here…just below the changing surface
that I like to hold my breath
as if it were the last.
the way my hair no longer lays in waiting
but tries to swim beyond its rooted place
fingers of the water's liquid hands touch my skin
with a long lost lover’s gentle snake like pace.
I like to slip beneath the water’s surface
To a place where time above stands still
