water

This battle between weight

and buoyancy has me

bobbing like a cork

on a length of ten-pound test;

sink or swim

is a fucking lie:

sink or float,

those are the true options.

You see, swimming is kinetic,

not a simple state

of being.

You can't know

what you're wafting on

without sinking down,

opening your eyes,

burning them

with water,

fresh or salt, no matter.

Healing hurts, elixirs burn.

Satisfied with an absence

of monsters

beneath the surface,

I rise,

floating under the sky.