Wild is the ocean. Where expanse swallows October. Ravens circle, they know the time. When the swell dips too low. And the peaks shoot high. The season when even careless shipmen practice wisdom. They’ve heard, they’ve learned, that our journey will end under the world.
The water is made for drowning. We know it, It knows it. The ocean doesn’t care about how many it swallows. Hungry, uncaring sea. A deep wide tomb for those who feign endurance. Where glitter dives. Where black teeth rip and tear. Deeper into darkness it will draw its visitors, the mass sojourn of the sea.
We will not fear, though the earth has melted. We brave the flood, not because we are brave. Only because there is no land to stand. Holding your hand. The sea tossed sideways. Steadying the stance, since, we will fall. Waves don’t measure violent blows, throwing their valley and shadows. But we still measure our strength in numbers.
Which leaves me in the wake. Awake. And unresting. Holding fast to you. That is, if you don’t let go. If I can hold. Yet, the cold wet stings underneath my fingernails.
Lick the salt of the morning. Regurgitate its aftertaste of the afternoon. Midnight meek and mild.
The ocean wild
is where we float to die.
Can we reproach the storms and weather, wind and waves? Our bloating fingers slip and slither. Frozen numb and tingling. Forgotten feeling of a touch. I remember now, I don’t feel anymore.
Senseless, sense-full
Far beyond a shore.
I remember now.
That you said hold…
I’ll hold my breath
but only a moment
because
we weren’t made
to hold our breath
forever
Under, over, air or water
Keep on holding
Deep below
Strain above
It hurts to hold
Beating chest
Inside breath
Crushed the wished hopes
Flushed beneath the watery floor
Panic. Calm.
Just like the tides.
Eyes lose focus
Just like the times
In the midst
In the mist
It’s nothing
But water
And I’m not afraid of water.
But as I wait
And as I hold
They’re lining up the terrors
That I can’t quite hold together
They know I cannot hold them
They scream for my embrace
Or maybe it’s my gurgling
That dares to scream for theirs
Demonic currents cue demands
Waves who mock thy fearful symmetry
Black and blue and fiery gold
Smeared corrupt by their commands
Where I cannot separate
Where I cannot wait
And I can’t hold
This water.
Tempting roaming lies of breath
Wandering in the foaming rage
For My self. My age. My head.
Run the numbers.
Count the cost.
Sink or swim.
Live or die.
Inhale or exhale.
But I hold.
I just float.
Where I can’t feel.
Alone.
When I can’t breathe
Afraid.
That there is no more shore.
Cindy Koch 