“Have you ever?” she asked.
Her lips scarlet, her skin made more pale in the moon light. Drops of water clinging to her skin, eyelashes clumped together from the damp and fog just barely lifting off the water where we swam.
“Have you ever?” She repeated. “Just to be there, feel swallowed up. Swam, without hesitation, out into the middle?”
I closed in on her until I could feel the vibrations from her body, swirling eddies brushing past my naked skin. My fingers reached out to trace across her chest and down to the curve of her waist. Only a silver sliver of the moon between us. I could see her moving in the water, slow, effortless. Lips parted, I wanted to kiss her. She smiled, but only a little. It made her look vulnerable and in a moment, that small minute, I knew she was undecided.
That the future didn’t exist to her, not now. At this moment, there was only this moment. She wanted it to last, not knowing what would come at the end. I pretended not to see her loss. With big strokes I swam past her until I was far enough away. Letting the vision of her settle into my mind. Perfect, simple, not asking, not taking, not expecting.
At the edge of the water it was loud. Noise: animals rustling and calling, insects singing, chirping and buzzing and the sound of the water lapping endlessly at the shores. Here was quieter, muted, and I turned to see how far away I was. She was still beside me, her face, inches away, skin radiating as the moon rose higher. She came close. Looking into my face, searching.
“From here it looks like nothing.” She said.
Her breath was wispy, soft, but close enough to dislodge water droplets on my cheeks, send them in rivulets down to my chin. It was my turn to offer a smile in silence.
I turned to look back into the dark, into the deepness. Silently she slipped past me, brushing softly against me, effortlessly going forward. Her head slightly swaying, swimming silent in the still waters, a tiny wake of a ripple trailing out from each shoulder. Transfixed, I followed.
We swam on an on, I wondered if we’d ever arrive, wondered why we were going. It looked like nothing. It took the length of night and no time at all. Memories of the journey stretched but time pasted effortlessly. At last she slowed.
“We are here,” she whispered.
Quiet enveloped us, the kind if silence that sucks away the air and the sound of even your own breath. Her back still facing me, she, looking into the deep. Tendrils of mist rising around us. Sections of her long hair snaking down her back and swirling around us. I searched, looking. At first I saw nothing. Then slowly it materialized before me. The Deep.
“It’s here.” she said barely above a whisper, “They call it jumping in with both feet, letting go, or falling. Really it’s here, far away from the edge, The Deep. You chose to come, let go and turned your back on your retreat. Unforgiving, magical, you give up your safety, hope to believe, risk it all, even yourself, that’s The Deep. The place you find yourself when you choose to let go, unafraid, abandoning your needs, your fears, your own wants and giving into the deep.”
I hear her words just as she turns to kiss me and the waters swallow me up. I don’t fight it. I’m not afraid and I’m quietly terrified. A siren speaking of love. I wanted it, not her and I let The Deep take me, watched as the shimmer of her body got further and further and I sank…