ebb and flow by Angela Thomas you're gone. the waves of the ocean, the tide, the put-out-the-red-flag- and-the-lifeguard-is-nervous tide has pulled you back into itself. i stare at my coca cola and the little bubbles rising to the surface. how they maneuver around these huge ice cubes that must take up all of their vision, must make them feel so small, so unable to reach the surface, to emerge. the little quivering bubble must feel that just reaching the surface means having to let go of the iceberg it so comfotably understands, suddenly joining a world of uncertainty, of velveteen music, sizzling chicken, lazy cat on a rainy day. i let the ocean pull you from me. my hands were taught around your memory, your voice only inches from my lips, but when that red flag fell, you were gone. my iceberg moved. i emerge. 04/15/2007 Author's Note: wonders what a little vacation could do for ya... ;) Posted on 04/15/2007 Copyright © 2024 Angela Thomas Return to the Previous Page   pathetic.org Version 7.3.2 May 2004 Terms and Conditions of Use 0 member(s) and 2 visitor(s) online All works Copyright © 2024 their respective authors. Page Generated In 0 Second(s)