Relationships are the heart of poetry, both in the literal sense and the symbolic. Human attraction and distraction are our genes, our mind and soul, our songs. When penning these lines, my desire was to step right into the mush and then parade around the living room in it, knocking over the pottery and getting footprints on the ceiling. Mush was just the beginning. I wanted to dive under the carpet and see the gum stuck to the underflooring. I wanted to show what was behind the walls and how it felt to demolish the whole house. I wanted to throw you in the deep end to see if you sank or bobbed like a beach ball. I wanted you to feel the rush of the breath as it escaped from your lungs and you yielded to the fate of the flow. The thrill of drowning feels permanent, but sometimes someone reaches in and pulls you out and dries you off and yells at you for getting too close to the edge.
And sometimes you succumb to the deep.
Breathe deep. Dive in. You can never swim if you don’t get wet.
And sometimes you succumb to the deep.
Breathe deep. Dive in. You can never swim if you don’t get wet.
