aquaintances

and I realize:

          you are always there, regardless-- it may be
            the time when the sky is blue-black and
    the ground silent-- and still, I can hear you
          humming to the purr of grit beneath
    my hard heels, the nervous cough of
                  a dry throat; sounds of a girl hunting
         whilst the wise are not watching.

              You hear and yet you elude like
         the lamp-light's flickering; strains
       of crass laughter burn in my ears for this
  is your game, one you know too well to be afraid--
             none have ever come close enough
    to bag you, trap you between desperate
              hands damp with sweat. You are
        undefeatable.

                     Yet as the sky cracks open
                              its sleep-hazed eyes to cast
             its glare upon my shoulders, you
    sing to me, take me by both hands,
           pull me to the sea; you push me in so I may understand
                       the taste of salt, hear water's
                   whispering breath; your wordless way
     of saying: do not fear the drowning for
                                                      that is not death.


This is the da capo where you leave me
drenched and spluttering spume, where I tell
the worried faces on the shore that
I am doing fine-- my way
of calling you a stranger.