I imagine myself dangling my feet over A lake that is absolutely calm. I wouldn’t dare disturb it. I would much rather stay where I am, And admire it from the dock. It is so beautiful and so pure, And nothing stays pure after diving head first.
My head always goes to her when I write. Like there’s something I still need to tell her, And I don’t know how helpful it is with me Speaking around what it is that I Really want to say.
I always dive head first into everything, And most times I’m hoping the water is more shallow Than I believe it to be. I admired her for so long That I figured the water would be fine. I’ve never been good at discerning depth.
If you see her, tell her I still think about her. Tell her that it wasn’t easy to dry off After jumping into her ocean. Tell her that hers were the most welcoming waves. I would have loved to be the moon that pulled her tide.
Tell her that her sea was never meant for me. And now I find myself sitting on this dock, Looking longingly at the gentle waves Of the most calm body of water. Knowing the depths are endless, I dip my toe in but I fear That if I jump, I won’t know which way is up.