ESCAPE

I woke up in a quiet glade, shrouded in light.

Starry dew droplets on my body.

A nearby pool drew me forth,

It’s undertow strengthened as I neared.

And at the shoreline, I was split in two:

One bent over the water, searching for a reflection.

The other begging for mercy, pulling away with all his strength.

‘Stay Calm’ said the first. 

‘I can’t hear you’ said the second.

The shallow water shimmered like molten glass,

But blackened on the surface as the rockbed sank lower,

Until it was completely opaque and beyond gravity.

A white circle of moonlight, the size of an eye, burned in the center.   

I fell to my knees, blemished heart, knowing

If I hold still, what I’ve known will reveal itself in the water.

Horrified, I know nothing but singular endlessness,

And a plain, finite self that looks upward and shrinks.

I cannot outrun the speed at which I fall.