Driftwood

By: Isabelle Shachtman

She whispers in my ear when hugging me
I want to stay here forever
I don’t want to go

I’m driftwood
I don’t ever stay for long
But I don’t have the strength to pull away

When I started I was strong
A sink or swim
I knew how to stay grounded
I knew I wasn’t built to navigate the sea

But eastern winds lured me
With their midnight arms
And soothing ripcurls bending over breaks in the shore,
A soft bodied girl

The sky’s light grew with the distance
I acclimated well
And began to float

This is what I was made for
The unavoidable has formed me
I shall lie still in the dawn
Atop lies laced with simple beauty
Dark eyes and arms reaching out

I took her hand
And left half my weight with me
Letting the lucidity of my life fall from me
          like eyelashes

Mere minutes ago the sea was dark and beautiful
Satisfyingly unknown
But now I am spotlighted by the sun
Reminded of my nature
Surrounded by a haze of evaporation

I am now so light that I seem to be floating
          above the water’s surface
Barely touching its crest
Like God’s footprint

I am barely the weight of a breath
Barely worth the payment of a bard

Not even an imprint
Just a shadow

I miss what I could’ve been
Before I was hollowed

Look at how I’ve aged
How soft I’ve become
I wasn’t made for this

Stay with me she says
And I will,
Because I must float

I will stay effortless for her
Light and tasteful
Beautiful

Letting her sun-streaked curls
Swing off her shoulder and onto my neck

Until even my air tastes like her.