Wild Swimming

 

The week before monsoon hangs heavy.

We wear the air like a woolen blanket in midsummer, smothering our logic.

You, you flawed genius, when the heat takes you to your crazy place,

you are a madman, a jewel thief

secretly adjusting the gas taps of my equilibrium.

That lightning storm in your brain takes your logic

and skews it, making me your enemy.

When the mania takes you, for survival’s sake my mind retreats

to the shade of the creek

my psyche dives down beneath its cooling waters.

I am diving down, down dark deep

where the chaos of your words cannot reach me.

Drifting in bottle-green silence,

limpid light cushioning my journey down.

I am a mermaid

my tail flicking aside your anger

which slides off my scales like oil.

Lungs blooming with pinon-scented air I dive

dipping beneath your harsh words

entering that sedated world where time slows

dream-like I pull through still water

hunting for jewels

while you rage above, your words a vicious deluge of irrational hatred.

Two or three days I lie,

breathing, only when I must, through the hollow reeds of my despair,

body wrinkled with submersion and my mind

cold-water saturated, on ice

until the storm passes, and the wildfire is done.

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