Swim

Swim

Depths down
beneath TikTok obsessed heads,
all is quiet,
serenely so as muted TVs;
fish swim by,
a little curious,
flashing silvery tails,
multi-hued metallic skin
that glints in the sunlight.

I admire their freedom:
their fishy swims often purposeless,
yet they are soundless
in watery ribbons,
miles from tapping technology.

No zoom calls exist here;
no deadlines;
no meetings
or training courses to attend.

They simply swim. Silent.

Swim,
Swim,
Swim…

Their fishy bodies
are svelte,
water-tight;
perfectly fitting here
amidst Italian shores
where fishermen
haul plentiful bounties,
seafood-rich, coral-crowned.

I see a raised net
as I bob to the surface,
needful of human breath;
the net is a brain
spilling my escapist thoughts
as I dive back down

losing
myself
in
(silence).

My own legs
feel cumbersome,
grazing on coral
and sharpened rocks
which sea creatures
dodge with balletic grace.

I’m not made for these climes.

I long for a tail –
a slice of silver
to pivot me forward
as a power boat,
gliding above my envious head:
filled with Italians
relishing in sun-drenched heat
upon open-decked splendour,
sipping champagne,
nibbling crab canapés;
they gasp predictable prattle:
a soundtrack (so hideously human).

I long for the sea:
its tempestuous moods;
unpredictable shifts
as grandmaster chess.

I wish to be challenged.
To swim…

I imagine my lungs
are gills – mere flaps,
flowing within tides:
breathing easy
as silver-backed friends;
maritime marvels
eye me knowingly
as a powerful one-eyed cyclops,
reads my unspoken thoughts.

As I course my way
reluctantly to the sunny surface,
I drag my chained thighs
feeling ardently ashamed
of my human flesh:
its corruptible pinkness,
flabby and buoyant
as rubber ducks
plummeting to surface waters,
clutched in toddlers’ hands
missing the quieter realm
of the bath-tub sea floor.

For this is where I want to be -
ocean floor-finned,
hiding in shady nooks
or dazzle iridescent flecks
in surface waters
flirting with beads of sun
as a pearl necklace
from a lover.

As I turn to dive back down…

rekindling with watery worlds,
I feel lighter —
unshackled as an escaped convict.

I look down,
fan-shaped fanfare awaits me –
my own mermaid tail.
My own.

I plunge deep…
losing myself in darker,
moss-mottled waters,
gliding playfully in cerulean climes,
driving my fishy self
to swim to new depths,
in unseen liquid worlds -
needing no human breaths.

I swim…