Fluids

I woke up to you hold me tighter. It was reassuring and I started to glide again, the open window, the light chimes from the house next door. The cool waft blowing directly on my sweat. You sigh deeply, it’s like you are tired even in your sleep. The breeze is the blanket to our corruption. Skin to skin, hair to hair. Midafternoon, the sun started to descend from its high horse after hours of heat. I stretched as much as I could, but you were the anchor on my back. I adjusted the pillow under my head and closed my eyes. You kept engulfing me with your long arms and legs. My body proportional and the right size for the partners I have had. I’ve had many love me, hold me, but you did it the longest. I felt secure, protected. After an hour, the sun shown in. My eyes opening slowly, taking a deep breath. You kissed my nape, then my shoulders. I don’t know how I smell but you breathe it in all the time. I turn to face you. Our faces smooshed together, your big nose across my face. You tighten your grip and I fall into the sea with you again. The anchor I didn’t want to cut loose from. They say you die peacefully from drowning. I know I heard it from a movie, but I don’t know which one. I guess the ocean’s pressure is so strong that it pushes all the air out of your lungs. It holds so much that it will drag you even when you are a good swimmer. Fun fact, I don’t know how to swim. I was deep in the ocean as you pulled some more, down, where there was no light. The once beautiful creatures, colors and perspectives started to mystify. I felt desperate for air; I wiggled and scratched the water wall. I dug my nails, but nothing caught, somehow, I started to float, disoriented, tired. I came up and gulped…. You were sitting there in front of me. I almost drowned.