It is like being held under
A glacial-thick layer of ice,
And there is only a lip level of pure air to breathe deep.
I am choking in gasps
of chest-tightening-cold water.
I struggle to time the arm movements that keep me afloat
And the breaths that keep me alive.
It is hard not to panic.
If only I could push through.
If only I could chip through.
If only I could be away from here.
Here I am lonely and here I am frightened.
Perhaps if I’d never known the brilliance of sunshine bathing my brown skin browner,
Or the sensation of hands firmly moving over my body;
Perhaps if I’d never known pleasure,
I would not be so deeply distraught here
In this cold.