Surface

Tap… Tap…
Hit the bottom of the glass.
Burst into bubbles,
Weaving through the vast ocean,
Fighting to break the surface,
A light foam laying restless.

She tips and swallows,
Feeling the tranquil rush,
Making it’s way down her throat.
Eyes close,
Body sleeps.

The waking spray of salt,
The rough textures of a wooden boat on her skin.
Confused and dazed,
Stands,
Searches the open horizon.
Nothing.

Panic overcomes.
Frantic.
Clawing at the boat,
The solid wall between her and the sea,
As she suffocates.
The air gives nothing,
Only stealing the breath from her lungs.

Her eyes snap shut.
She leaps.
Crashing into the water,
Breathing again,
The living atmosphere feeds life into her,
Her eyes burst wide open.

A single chip of a broken glass,
Dead water,
Across the table,
The glass split,
A single shard engulfed in the transparent drug.

Her pale cheek,
Lying in the liquid rag.
She lies still,
Doesn’t want to move.
Stays in her ocean.