I close my eyes, my arms droppin' down to my sides, my legs givin' up. I sink slowly down, the water a gentle cradle to my body, the suns rays disappearin' the further I go. I surrounded in a dream of black. My skin 'comes all prickly, the water becomin' mo' like ice than nothin' else. I think I feel the scales of a fish brush up 'gainst my legs, dancin' between my toes, but it gone before I can really tell it not jus' my imagination.
As I keep on sinkin' my lungs begin to burn, a sting an' ache present in my chest. I open my eyes, the water green 'round me, so dark that I ain't nearly able to see my hand jus' a few feet away. I look 'round fo' the bottom, but it ain't near, or if it is I can't tell.
Before the lust fo' oxygen becomes even stronger, the ache to a burn, I swim up to the surface, pantin' when I finally make it. My skins real chilled, the suns rays through the water not doin' much to help it. I fall back, floatin' atop the surface, my feet kickin' all gentle, my eyes starin' up at the sky. It blue today, no cloud nor sense of relief in place. There ain't too many birds neither, jus' insects skimmin' the surface 'round me. It too hot fo' animals to be outside.
I close my eyes again, this time pretendin' that the lake my bed, carryin' me away toward the world of my dreams. I stretch my arms out on either side my body, fingers achin' to grasp a hold of somethin'- anythin'. In my mind a feel a hand 'gainst my own, my mothers, then nothin'- jus' water. But that feel nice to- fixin' itself in the holes between my fingers an' toes, caressin' my breasts an' body. I wish I could stay 'ere forever, feel this held an' protected, feel this relaxed.
When my face dips under the lake fo' jus' half a second, the water spills over my lips- a gentle, subtle kiss.
When I decide to head in, my skin look like a prune, deep set wrinkles etched into each finger. The sun is lower in the sky, not quite settin' but not new neither. Mista Smith should be gettin' 'ere soon, an' when he does, daddy'll want me present. They come lookin' fo me soon.
The journey toward my discarded clothes, take longer than the journey out there. I more tired, my legs achin' an' sore, my skin itchin' to be dry. I swim real slow, scared only once when I think of all that fish that could be waitin' fo' me at the bottom. This thought makes me swim real faster, an' luckily I ain't attacked 'fore I get back to land.
When I slip my dress back on, it feel like a stranger. It don't feel like it belon' no more- I dunno if it ever did.
As I keep on sinkin' my lungs begin to burn, a sting an' ache present in my chest. I open my eyes, the water green 'round me, so dark that I ain't nearly able to see my hand jus' a few feet away. I look 'round fo' the bottom, but it ain't near, or if it is I can't tell.
Before the lust fo' oxygen becomes even stronger, the ache to a burn, I swim up to the surface, pantin' when I finally make it. My skins real chilled, the suns rays through the water not doin' much to help it. I fall back, floatin' atop the surface, my feet kickin' all gentle, my eyes starin' up at the sky. It blue today, no cloud nor sense of relief in place. There ain't too many birds neither, jus' insects skimmin' the surface 'round me. It too hot fo' animals to be outside.
I close my eyes again, this time pretendin' that the lake my bed, carryin' me away toward the world of my dreams. I stretch my arms out on either side my body, fingers achin' to grasp a hold of somethin'- anythin'. In my mind a feel a hand 'gainst my own, my mothers, then nothin'- jus' water. But that feel nice to- fixin' itself in the holes between my fingers an' toes, caressin' my breasts an' body. I wish I could stay 'ere forever, feel this held an' protected, feel this relaxed.
When my face dips under the lake fo' jus' half a second, the water spills over my lips- a gentle, subtle kiss.
When I decide to head in, my skin look like a prune, deep set wrinkles etched into each finger. The sun is lower in the sky, not quite settin' but not new neither. Mista Smith should be gettin' 'ere soon, an' when he does, daddy'll want me present. They come lookin' fo me soon.
The journey toward my discarded clothes, take longer than the journey out there. I more tired, my legs achin' an' sore, my skin itchin' to be dry. I swim real slow, scared only once when I think of all that fish that could be waitin' fo' me at the bottom. This thought makes me swim real faster, an' luckily I ain't attacked 'fore I get back to land.
When I slip my dress back on, it feel like a stranger. It don't feel like it belon' no more- I dunno if it ever did.
