Over, I Go

The waves are lapping
against my skin
and the salt stings.

I am near the shelf,
sand slips,
darkness brings
things,

those lurkers
within the cold sea.

Wade, by inches,
toward the edge,
as gravity clenches
my legs
and overpowers
the buoyancy
of my breast.

Over, I go.

Fall silently,
unbreathing,
through the blackness,
where peace compresses
scattered thoughts
into crystal treasures,
and I preach to these

diamond masses.

Congregants sway,
back and forth,
ebb and flow,
too late,
I realize
that my friends,
the faithful,
are just kelp
fastened
to the sea floor,
so

far

below.

I am not alone.

One mile deep,
where her ink coalesces
into messages
for the falling.

“Sleeeeep.”

Fall into her tresses,
Marianas, wicked,
swirl against my cheek
and grant me
your blackest blessing.

Sink. Sink.

Creatures of the sea dream,
wistful and lonely,
about sinking things,
and other curiosities
that fall,
from Heaven to Hell,
like mana

…and then they eat.

© CG Tenpenny, 2020.