the gravity that holds me

5

I Learned This In My Physics Class

When I was seventeen,
I felt the world around me dissolve.
I was stranded in the middle
of an aquatic prison, drowning in
an endless body of water
that extended beyond the horizons.
All I could feel was the thick resistance
of fluid against my violent kicks, and
the pull of gravity over my trembling body.
Fear welled within me, a shifting panic
thumping through my being.
I was gasping for air, unsettling waves
plunging into me. And then
I stopped struggling. I gave my body
up to the tides, reeled up
my plummeting heart, let the steady sound
of foaming sways of water in, and
I let go. I closed my eyes, took one breath,
and let go. And then as I resurfaced,
toes stretched out, salt air
in my face, the water dancing
with my limbs, it dawned on me:
for something to float,
it must first partially sink.

image: John Everett Millais, Ophelia, 1851-1852, Tate Britain