the pale blue avieli come and greet me,
my toes dipped far past the skim of the surface.
my ankles, small and knobbed,
gently sway, nodding left to right.
the lovat seagrass spindles and knots with passing aquatics,
smoothly unraveling once through.
the demon, who seems to skirt around this area
of deep greens and violet hues,
lightly takes hold of the flesh of my human legs,
gripping the bone between darkened talons.
it beckons, “what a delicate creature.”
the zephyr of summer leads to misjudgment.
warm, honey-soaked humidity drenches my mother’s linen.
bowls of pomegranate left on granite countertops.
i pull myself in deeper
sulked with an internal despondence.
my eyes seem to catch the reflection of light
of the glistening fangs of a predator.
yet still, i let myself sink into him.
he grasps onto my shoulders, flushed and olive,
dappling the swimming pool with red puddles- a sweet nectar.
holes filling the side of my bovine face.
spurious cinematic comfort.
the shadowy figure proceeds to engulf
my carameled view with the bitter fruit of
knowing the end of a story
before it has had the chance to begin.