I Finished 365/365
last Friday, Dec. 4th, 27 days ahead of schedule. This one of of my favorite poems I wrote all year. Even I think this poem is good.
Capsized (365/365 #360)
I fell in love with a river once and started weeping
immediately. I knew it would be an impossible thing,
but my heart had set sail. There was no other option
left, except to paddle gently, and learn to talk to water
in its native tongue. I threw away absorbent clothing,
kicked my shoes off one last time, and sat naked
in the boat as it follow the urges and undulating
currents. All things led to the next step- the river
to the sea, a kiss to a caress- I didn’t like exposure
to the sun, so I jumped in feet first. It was natural
that I let the river take me. Knowing no jealousy,
it held me for the short time we both knew we had.
I think it was even proud it would give me away
to the ocean. This could have been awkward, but
we figured a way out of sorrow. We found whole
moments we could hold onto. When I heard ocean
calling for me, I spread my arms as wide as if flying,
kicked my legs until I frothed the waves and ripped
the tides. We had sex like that for hours. It was right
that my last breath came just as I did. I grew dizzy,
saw a sea-sky full of fish stars, I learned new names
for green and blue. I did not die, but the sea changed
me in its depths, and I am a different creature since.
My waterlogged mouth can't tell the story, my heart
doesn’t want to, my body loves the way it can move.
Capsized (365/365 #360)
I fell in love with a river once and started weeping
immediately. I knew it would be an impossible thing,
but my heart had set sail. There was no other option
left, except to paddle gently, and learn to talk to water
in its native tongue. I threw away absorbent clothing,
kicked my shoes off one last time, and sat naked
in the boat as it follow the urges and undulating
currents. All things led to the next step- the river
to the sea, a kiss to a caress- I didn’t like exposure
to the sun, so I jumped in feet first. It was natural
that I let the river take me. Knowing no jealousy,
it held me for the short time we both knew we had.
I think it was even proud it would give me away
to the ocean. This could have been awkward, but
we figured a way out of sorrow. We found whole
moments we could hold onto. When I heard ocean
calling for me, I spread my arms as wide as if flying,
kicked my legs until I frothed the waves and ripped
the tides. We had sex like that for hours. It was right
that my last breath came just as I did. I grew dizzy,
saw a sea-sky full of fish stars, I learned new names
for green and blue. I did not die, but the sea changed
me in its depths, and I am a different creature since.
My waterlogged mouth can't tell the story, my heart
doesn’t want to, my body loves the way it can move.