Soaked

LIKE I SAID. IT'S REVISED! TELL ME IF YOU LIKE THE CHANGES OR HOW THEY AFFECTED YOUR THOUGHTS.


Swimming Clothes



Missing the point…

An empty aisle,
as far as you could see.
A golden carpet highway
to the beach of my insides.
A street of gold
paved in Berber,
the fibers tainted
the result of the heavy traffic
of unwashed feet.

So, I wasn’t driving, right?
(Immaturity enhanced by a lack of depth perception
and a crippling amnesia always means the same thing.)
Passenger side,
front seat,
brand new eyes absorbing
brand new sites
and the faces of
the rest of
the Body
of drivers.

Little did I know,
that the highway gets lonely,
exits look appealing,
and the next thing you know,
you’re at a gas station
in Memphis
asking directions
from someone born thousands of miles away
from here.

Or anywhere that you’re going for that matter.

That’s why carpooling makes sense.

(Tangents will be the life of me.)

With signs in sight,
(billboards supporting the driver's decision...)
my mother gets excited,
and assures my Father,
they’re happy tears.

Everyone wanted them to leave me at home.

“He can’t even swim.
What if he hates the water, or
drowns?
You’ll never forgive yourself.
He’ll be
more guilty of not swimming than if
he had never gotten wet.”

Smiling,
Dad replies,
“Well, we like the water. It’s a risk we’re willing to make.”



Looking snazzy…

My brand new swimming clothes adorned,
I’m foreshadowing in the flesh;
dressed in the water’s hopeful effect.

Wish I could see my feet.

My dad parks the car the same way he always does.
from the Right.
NOT THE lEFT.
From the car I see the beach.
I am in awe.
My parents don't take notice
because
I
"always have that look on my face."

Finding the end of the
black
pavement's grip
that quickens my parents' steps,
I notice their feet being invaded by
white.
It appears to be
dirt,
but the substance is much
too clean to be
dirt.

I resolve that what It is,
is what I have been missing.

The water’s edge approaches
and as the echoing waves’
song of visibility
rings clearer and clearer,

everything stops.

No one is talking and
(except for the occasional excited whisper)
all have left the cool of the water
to witness me shiver for the first time.

And they’re smiling.

Clutching to my mother’s summer dress,
I am overtaken by a sudden
wariness of my new surroundings.
Tears begin to form behind my
ignorant eyes,
drenching my ever-moistened eye lashes
and streaking my cheeks
with a
Rose-
red embarrassment.

Feeling the shake of reluctance in my mother's arms
I find myself pushed toward a new face.

I notice his swimming clothes.

Faded black
from his constant immersion
in the salty,
and the drying warmth of the beach’s
direct sunlight,
they hang loosely around
his weathered but chisled
swimmer's frame.

He gathers me in,
holds me as his own,
and speaks to my embarrassment
in a low whisper.

One that no one but he and I can hear.
The kind of whisper that makes you feel guilty for not listening more.

“I swim Here all the time.
You’re going to love It.”

Leading me down to the water’s edge,
His grip is firm.

The current doesn’t have a chance against him.
Waiting to drown,
waiting to be taken into the
depths
of the abyss,
I, unable to control myself,
find a way,
in this safest of places,
to let my ignorance outweigh his
experience and ability
Cupping his right hand,
he dips it shallowly
and brings up a palm full
of quickly fleeting water.
He smiles softly
and runs his steady hand over my head.

Still sobbing,
I feel the ocean’s saline as it sprints,
like a friend with Good News,
down my forehead,
meeting with my tears
on a pale,
fleshy dance floor.

As husband and bride,
They dance.

The waltz marks completion.
......


Looking snazzy…
My brand new engagement ring
shines with a luster
that echoes its price.



Engaged.
With no knowledge of love.


So there you have it. Let me know what you think.

.epoHoNevahllitsew
Good Providence