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.