Monday, November 9, 2009

Exhale - 10thDoM Moon

Dive in. Head first. I'm water; I'll flow, you say. Slowly, I tiptoe to your crest, and I can feel the rush of cool moving in, lingering for a moment, retreating slowly, begging for the tips of my toes. I laugh at the idea, but it makes me smile. So I climb to higher land for a better view, am awed by what I see. Exhale. To breathe is a luxury these days. I'd love to swim freely through your waters, feel you wash over me, your flowing currents playfully surrounding me. Don't look back. The air is thinning, the sky is black and the moon is high. I can't stay up here forever.

I close my eyes and listen. Your night voice is calming, calling. I'm still hesitant, standing at your edge. Going back is not an option. I need to get away from the fire. He is destroying me. Deep breath. I'm in, I say, not sure if you'll catch me, but hoping you will. The sting of my bad form breaking through your surface is jolting. I realize your waters are unsteady and I can't swim. Your waves crush against my chest, my heart, pushing me away, driving me to the shallow ends. I'm suffocating beneath the weight of your impact. Washed to shore, the sand is rough; there's not enough of you here yet to hold me high enough to breathe.

Pushed too hard, too fast. Now those same surface tides that pushed me out slide underneath themselves, holding fast, pulling me back into you with their stronger undercurrents. You are water. You do flow. But you do not control your tides, and I cannot control the moon. She waxes and wanes in her own time, and I am helpless to fight as she phases through you. Crash into me, push me away, pull me in, hold me up, let me float. You're not what I expected. I'm not what you wanted. But your waters are calm for now and I can breathe. Exhale.


  1. Wow, that is beautifully done. Reading, I could feel the push and pull of the water. So good.

  2. nicely played...this has great rhythm that accentuates your story...

  3. Something in me was floating from this as surely as Briam's tale stifled me. Great piece.

  4. There are calmer, more inviting beaches.

  5. Upon second reading, it's not as bad as I initially thought... BUT...

    There's this weird pronoun/lack-of-pronoun thing, and it comes across like it wants to be a poem (and should be... in fact, I can tell it started as such, whether you admit it or not).

    So... doesn't quite work for me.

    Happy? There's your damned comment.