The Drowning

I see your face

distorted, wavering outlines

the optical illusion of movement

prescribed when water

is five inches thick.

Five inches of water,

then five inches of air

between your eyes and mine.

I seek to bridge this distance

with my smile

and with my hands

around your throat.

Your hair is picturesque

it moves so languidly

the bubbles from your

perfect mouth are

crystal ball illusions

I bend to try and swallow them

before they hatch.

And now your hands are cool

around my wrists and you

are drawing me to you

as I am drawing you to me

and in this drowning

we are closer

than when we made love.

StarFields 1998