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The other side of water
by Vikki OwensLooking down into it,
it is easy to think of it,
metaphorically.
A mirror,
a razor,
a blanket
but crash into it,
and look up from below
and you begin to see it
for what it is,
you begin to see it
as a string of particles,
the chemical bonds
of hydrogen
and oxygen
that form
a formless fluid
that touches every part of you,
touching even the little spaces
between your eyelashes,
and filling up the hollows of your cheeks,
fluid mechanics
taking over
as you gasp for air,
but there is no air, instead,
there is the water
in your chest
and your tiny aveoli
are trying to push it in and out of your lungs
into your veins,
to no use.
The air in the spaces between your cells is not enough
to make you buoyant
so you sink down,
the surface tension closing over your struggle
with only tiny bubbles
popping up, here and there,
to make mention
of what you used to be.
02/24/2009 Posted on 02/25/2009
Copyright © 2024 Vikki Owens
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 02/25/09 at 02:14 PM Good write lady. I recall our chemistry lab in high school and the work we did to make the water separate in hydrogen and oxygen. But you are right, it can be deceiving if you can't swim, not unlike life. |
| Posted by Joan Serratelli on 02/25/09 at 03:45 PM I agree with BOTH Ally and George- can't swim either, but not afraid of drowning 'cuz I on't go in!
The ironic part: I live at the beach! |
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