It kills me to be this way,
One foot on earth.
Afraid of entering the deep,
Least stable in my element.
The line between
Flowing/firm,
In/out,
Here/back there.
The invisibly present past
waits like a snake,
watching
for the scent of my presence.
Like a thief, he slips in and out
into the here, now
from where I don’t wish to remember-
An interruption.
An assault on my elemental stride.
The flow I was born to take up,
Always The Future.
I can’t let go
Of the past that presents himself in armor, metallic,
Every time
I break the water’s surface:
A step from firm land,
A step from passivity,
Back towards the home
only I can gain for myself.
Kaitlin Sansoucie 