Buoyancy

Until we meet,

I feel I shall never leave this ocean.

I've survived well enough for a long time,

content and solitary.

But now,

that haunting, which

seems to have seeped up from beneath the blue,

a veil of black,

of smoke-grey,

chiffon...

I'm standing on floating stones,

in a depthless ocean.

Every step, unsure.

Every step, potential slip.

Until we meet,

I shall hope,

and lose hope.

I shall fall,

and reach up for a grasp that I do not know exists.

Many times, I've been close to slipping.

A desire for connection.

And I question, am I deluded?

These stones have never swayed this way before.

And perhaps,

I want to tell you,

that you may be the one who will save me.

Or swim with me.

Would you swim with me?

Or are you someone else's buoy?

That ocean seems vast.

And I have lost the footing I've held for so long.

Until we meet,

how will I know?