Death in Drowning

Death in Drowning
by Circe ©circe@nucentrix
Submitted to satinslippers.com
No duplication elsewhere without express permission from me.

If only drowning could loosen all stiffness.
I would flow in that fluid dying,
that pliant underwater death.
Released from the awful awkward terror
of being strange,
of fearing strangers.
I would be slow in grace,
and sensual.
Languid in swaying through the heavy liquid deep.

And my hair would flow,
a wraith of gold.
Delicate watered silk.
Combed, smoothed, loved by the currents.
Too beautiful for air.
Too chaste for human hand.

Pale under water,
and luminous perhaps: my flesh.
Freed finally from the roughness and salt
of ignorant touches,
the abrasions of lusts or of violences.

The perfect, perfect caress of water.
Pushing, pulsing.
Making trite all surges,
those little ripples before.
I sway and swoon in this flow,
innocent in water, new in this love.

And descending softly
in the diffusion of light,
I would dream through this slowdance.
Alone and serene.
Lithe beyond life.
Too enraptued for land.