lapping currents lay your boat to the ground

I am an island. I am the utopian mound of which all have only seen pictures, surrounded by sea. And you are the surrounding sea. You are that unfathomably deep blue that keeps me away from the others. Your current is what keeps me apart, what makes me shy away from the rest of the world. Your constant shifting pushes me back when I reach out to any other; it is only you who will keep me afloat.

I am a prisoner of the very thing that keeps me from going under. But the days are getting warmer and as the temperature rises, so the water does too. I can still breathe through my nose, but soon it will all be too much and I will be washed over, washed under and drowned by your ever-changing you. I will sink to the very bottom of you, and stare past the surface into the glare of another unknown, unending blue. I cannot breathe underwater, much less with your weight on top of me. I cannot swim with my legs open and my hands are tied as my head rests in my hands because I cannot pray without them.