drowning

alone in the churning waves, she fights to keep her head up.
but it seems like every gasp ends in gagging on salt water
again forced under the tumult, there is a moment of stillness that seems to stretch on forever
she risks opening her eyes to the depths as the cold leaches heat from her body,
it is more quiet here, but her solitude is louder
if only there were help
if only there were someone
someone to see her struggle
someone to hold her up
someone to add warmth in this icy place
then
then everything would be alright
with someone to hold her up
someone to stay up for
she could live again
burning lungs remind her
she cannot stay below
pressing up ward, the surface seems slow to come
but come at last it does
and with it the roar of the storm
but there...
there for a moment she thought...
yes! a voice!
behind the thunder, wind and wave
a voice calls through the storm
but the direction is lost in the chaos
desperate, she strikes out
clawing her way forward
but tired. so tired.
a moments lapse and an unseen rise
drive out the air and leaver her coughing and sputtering
but again the voice cries out
and again frigid limbs flail
‘till suddenly hand strikes hand
a shock of heat and life
then gone
grasping hands find nothing
crying, thrashing, shouting
two voices call ...or three?
and then, carried by some friendly current
the two collide
arms lock and suddenly,
for a moment the storm is a paradise
lonely no more, joy abounds in hope fulfilled
until the next wave presses both beneath the sea.
hoarse from shouting I sit back in the boat from which we all had fallen
we were, none of us, swimmers
not at our best let alone in angry storm and sea
and yet, confused in the drift,
we forget the boat and set our hopes on each other
driven to be alone no longer, she finally found her savior
only to discover, too late, that he had hoped the same from her