Day at the Hot Springs

We ate strawberries and dug our
feet into the hot pebbles,
thrilled by the thought of
molten lava running down below.
I swam out, though,
further, and further,
to the middle of the lake,
wading through the wall of algae
that would ornament me when I
emerged, as though they had
embraced me, I had gone
far enough, I was
one of them.
You were scared though,
a fear of dark water,
the mystery of unknown
below, you
preferred to stay on the shore.
I said,
Come to me,
and you obeyed,
swam out and met me there in the
dark deep,
which is how I know
you loved me.
But I never jumped from the cliff
for you.

Which is all only to say
that this was foreshadowed,
this moment,
when you ask if you should stay up
and wait for me and I say
I will have to see whether or not
I am very late.

EWV