Behind the tower of folded towels, I step from a monogrammed robe.
The water is life and in the air I drown.
Wet-breath vapors whisper vague:
I am the respite.
Vast, empty, immensity,
swells, azure blue,
cool the storm,
as the distance
against the flow I splash —
Turbulence, friction high, staccato bleats, relentless cry:
Can you hear it?
The bantered ideology, reactionary calls, the cadence of coherence that
The noisy show-me.
Droning, drowning rhetoric insistent to reduce, each plateau necessity, revolution we choose; a holding pattern.
Like silence underwater,
in the bubble it is still,
haven’t gotten anywhere,
don’t know where we’ve gone.
I suck the air between my teeth and float.
Copyright © Kelly Huntson and kellyhuntson.com All rights reserved.
Float like a lily, bloom as human.
Thank you for reading.
*originally published March, 2019