She called for help. Asked me to swim out to her. She thrashed in the deep water. I stripped naked and stepped in. The water was cold and restless. She called my name. Told me to hurry I waded out to my waist, breathed deep. I dove forward thinking of a man who dove into a rock and broke his spine. I surfaced. She called me names without enthusiasm. She was on the verge of giving up. I swam to her. She said she couldn’t do it. She was failing to drown. The water, she said, wouldn’t pull her down. She asked again for help. I was reluctant, of course. I have my own problems. But I told her to hold her breath. She nodded. Inhaled deeply. Sank just below the surface. I watch her face through the waves. I was so tired. When she was about to burst, her body demanding air, she blew out her lungs. I pushed her head down as the bubbles rose. I held her down and she breathed in the darkness. Struggled. But I was strong and her eyes were so grateful. And she was gone. I treaded water. We had drifted far out to sea. How long, I wondered, will I have to swim if I am ever to find land?
Intriguing, I like the twist in the middle, where she's failing to drown.
ReplyDeleteYeah, that was the idea, to have the guy be the one who is assisting her by pushing her down, to have her be happy at the end after she has drowned.
ReplyDeleteThis was one where I had no idea where it was going and then this is what happened. Weird.
Strong and dark. A source of wondering.
ReplyDeleteCarol, do you mean me or the poem? Don't answer that.
ReplyDeleteThanks for reading!