Water

I am tentative. And nervous. Even though I can swim, I hold back. I place one toe in the water. It feels cool. Refreshing. And still I hold back. I seem unable to dive right in, like you do. I might get wet. I might get cold. I might enjoy myself too much.

You splash me with cooling beads of salty liquid. We laugh. We watch. We wade in a little deeper. I have goosebumps. I am wet. You pull me deep into the waves. We sink under blankets of liquid. For the first time, I feel alive. Here in this pool. I am energised. I feel cleansed.

The water covers me. I feel new. Here I am not me. Here I am anyone. I drink in a new persona every time I slip into these waves. I am moistened. Here I can grow. Watered at the root.

We swim in the twilight, quietly, lest we disturb the little fish. We keep our ripples small and silent, straining to hear what we might have disturbed as we cavorted in our private pool.

When I emerge from the tranquil silence trapped beneath these breakers, I am naked. I am reborn. For a short while, I live in a moistened cloud of ecstasy. The sweat and the tears are dissolved in these bubbling waters.

Too soon the water clinging to my skin evaporates in steamy droplets, mini memories of our underwater frolicking. And suddenly I am dry again. It's just me.

My lips are parched and blistered. My skin is burnt and cracked. I am not beautiful away from those tranquil waters. I want to feel the splash of those waves again. I want to stand beneath that waterfall, and be engulfed in a soothing rain. I long for the spray of cool mist against my thighs. I will be replenished in that oasis.

Sometimes I stroll along the streams on my own. I dabble in the shallows. A toe. A foot. Up to my knees. It's a cathartic and rejuvenating experience. But I see those surreal ripples spreading away from me, and I wonder what effect they might have on the shores across the oceans. Could I cause a tidal wave upon someone else's conservative beaches? I gaze over a never-ending sea, the water supporting thousands of floating bodies. They come here for different reasons. Some to rejuvenate, like me. Some to escape the shore. And some come looking for themselves.

The air is humid and clammy. I see dark shapes gliding in the deep waters, and it makes me feel afraid. There are things in this carnal ocean that I cannot understand. Things lurking in the muddy depths. Watching. Waiting. Preying on the seekers who swim out too far. I take a step closer to the shore and shudder. For a while, I am worried about entering these waters. I wait for you to come and take my hand. To pull me into the alluring azure deep where I can find myself again.