Water


Water
By: Shelley Hannah Friedman

It shrieks in deep, resonant agony,
swallowing me whole as I slice my way through its placid surface.
I am its prisoner;
my eyes close as if by rule, avoiding eye contact with my attacker,
and my lungs gasp desperately for air.
One minute passes,
two,
three;
colors begin to penetrate my eyes-
blotches of thick, orange enveloped by angry shards of black -
and my face, to match, becomes a swollen amalgam of grape and blue.
My body bursts through the cold, wet surface in defeat,
inhaling oxygen voraciously and splattering droplets everywhere.
I am no match for my beautiful enemy.

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