Pool

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The day has exhausted itself on my fingertips

Conversations do not slip from my tongue anymore

I am flowing in this chlorinated pale water

A pool that has more humans than water.

I wash my fingers so that they no longer smell of me

But a clean artificial lemon smell trapped in this plastic bottle.

The darkness of my room is breathing

More loudly than my breaths measure

I feel it on the pale of my neck,

As sweat pools, in this humid summer.

I dream of swimming in pools of different sizes

Different shapes and different depths.

In that same costume, with my eyes wide open

I look at the deep blue turn dark,

Dark, dark

Till I have essence of no one, but me

On my fingertips that smell of me.

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~insight07 •

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