“When the waves shake your body
like a stressed father does to shut up a child,
do not resist it. Let it smack your chest
with a cold hand. Does that remind you
of the times your mother did it because she loved
you? Does it feel like love yet?
First you will try to run, but you can’t run in water.
Then your feet will try to kick the water harder and quicker,
but water doesn’t back down from a fight.
It tosses you harder and farther, makes you gulp air down
but you can’t open your mouth without swallowing water,
like it’s your first time swimming in rough seas. But it’s not.
The waves have you trapped.
They know you need to breath, they feed themselves to you.
They know you must kick to stay afloat,
they tie your feet together with ropes of satin.
You cannot move, you are weak against waves.
And if you defeat one, there are more out there,
ready to make you a Titanic,
holding you up to sky then casting you down,
forever bound by leather to the seafloor.
As you breath more water than air,
I want you to say:
“Yes. This feels like love.”
Try to believe it too.”