The lake is flat …

May 15 2012


   …impenetrable.

The weight of water

the unbreakable surface.

Like dark glasses

on a beautiful woman.

I want to read her

sound the depths,

descend

to the cold heavy heart.

But she remains a façade,

as inscrutable

as water.

A perfect stone for skipping

is smooth and flat

with soft round edges.

It skims, deflects, exhausts,

disappearing cleanly

into blackness.

On a lake that’s dark and hard

as obsidian.

Except when a gust of wind

ruffles the surface,

like a hand unknotting a scarf

and with one magnificent toss

long hair shakes free.

Close enough to see

into her eyes

unguarded,

and sink

dead weight

dropping at constant speed.

Find the bottom.

Come to rest.