Nightswimming

“Silent, Naked Night”

Night-swimming deserves a quiet night.

Memories ebb and flow,
perceived sensations are the moon,

moving the tides, my thoughts,

All within the oceanic currents

of my stream of consciousness.

​

There is renewed strength to be found
in the recklessness of the water,
running into the sea when common sense

would otherwise prohibit–

the frigid water feels silky, thin to my skin.

My body’s movements become dance,

graceful, natural, powerful.
A summer day’s refreshing dip

a mere step in the ballet,

but oh, the real show!

​

Diving in the waves before sunrise
or a fierce immersion into salt
unclothed under the night sky’s low moon,
never appealing in foresight
for the jump jars me with a jolting grip,
no embrace less comforting,
but in hindsight the treasure of vulnerability is warming

to my naked skin and heart.

​

But They cannot see me naked.
Daylight will meet me with rolling waves
of unrelenting challenge ripping me
from the comfort and luxury of this seascape

where I can drown or live unbeknownst
to the world’s Self-Proclaimed Judges
who shun intimacy, and whom I escape
as I run towards, dance within,
and finally surface above that vast, blue element

finding a second surge of strength,
praying for the same triumphant fate
in the outside world that will illuminate
my human frailties, equally exposed.