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In the same place
by Leslie Ann Eisenberg
My life is
push-pulled
Waterlogged, I sink
yet, my heart
is afloat
The swivel push of waves chill
my weary bones
But in the stillness,
fire grows
The submissive enemy is my body
My limbs,
heavy tree
branches that reach
for the oceans muddy floor
The pressure of the wet splits open
my eyes
which seek hope
above the snap of the surface
I am tilted,
concrete feet
sunken,
heart upturned
In a rocking chair womb of waves and wounds
10/25/2003 Author's Note: Divine Aiko, I wade in your wake.
Posted on 11/16/2003
Copyright © 2024 Leslie Ann Eisenberg
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