swimming with my sister we write poems #29 swimming

Currents push me hard against
barnacles on the post.
My sister said:
“Like in thick lava I swim
with nothing to grip”
Wide hips and plaintive smile.
A pool of ash and molten
rock — we’re stuck.
No way to navigate
this viscid cycle — with the
darkness in our hearts.
We try to be ambiguous and
righteous, but that twists
my brain.
And all the while I swim …
In a beautiful blue lake where
snakes won’t grab my ankles.