Sea, Swim and Sink

          The water was so satisfying tonight. The temperature of the gentle swerves pet that of the wooden barrel's top at the gaze of a sun's village morning. That warm coldness. The dew has not fully evaporated from the sides where the metal rings still managed to endorse the content half- rusty. Just before the dip of the stainless steel bulk gulped a mundane need of waters to wash the footsteps at the front door and remove the laughs of the drunk last night. Right there, between every echoing sway and another from the barrels top, I fell more into the dream I had last night.

          I spent the entire night swimming. The same viscous water tickling the outside of my palm, triceps, my outer pecks down to my hips and till my toes. With every breaking wave, I gasped one more time. Another breath. Another dip. Another day. I was drowning to that person just in front of me. Everytime I flexed my arms open to push fluid underneath, I figured it was never projected to swim,.

          All I wanted was to reach the perpetual mimic floating the surface just across my fingertips. Everytime I slapped the waves behind me, I became more aware that it was not the desire to move on that has gotten me to swim. It was rather the desperate plead not to drown in place, but drown in her shadow.

          Tonight, and for long long nights that passed, I reeled all the way down my corridor, flipped the light switch just outside my door shut, moved my heavy feet against the childishly knit cartoon mat, and buried my body underneath the two thick sheets of dreams and gently drowned in my bed. Vigorously drowning in my feelings. Peacefully choking with the gurgling fact that I, again, had fallen.

          Every night, I went for a swim. However, tonight was the first of all where I finally managed to see the water, to taste the salt and chlorine squeaking midst my cuspids and some of which that actually slipped a little further. Tonight, I became aware that all the talks and promises that I spent the last year inflating my arm floats and lifeguard jackets with were empty. All the people that volunteered to blow full my path down the very seas were blowing up the waves.
          I actually never needed the arm floats or the lifeguard jacket. All I wanted was to swim. Naked. Stripped from all social constraints and eternal screaming seagulls above the near. All I wanted was to swim.

          The jacket is gone. No more floats are anymore needed. No screams. The floating buzz always in front of my fingertips, never in my reach, does not belong to me anymore. All has been set apart. I stopped my arms. I sloughed my intense rhythmic breaths and was left alone to a short heavy steady breath. I've smiled now, relaxed my corners and gently drowned into the waters. The realm where I for long existed does not exist anymore. It is all gone with another gulp from the barrel, under the cold morning light, just to wash the drunks of last night, just to drown back awake from under my two thick sheets.