Slowly You Will Sink Into the Depths of My Memory by Molly Boeder Harris

I am near the ocean now, I reluctantly step inside.
I have dreamt of water so many times.
Whales, orcas, and dolphins swimming deep — I enter their world.
Sometimes a guest, sometimes a target, and sometimes: I am one of them.

The water rises and I breathe shallow.

The tide will pull me down deep
if I don’t catch this arching wave right.
I should have known better than to explore this unpredictable, unforgivable, and colossal sea.

How will I recover? Will I drown here all by myself? My pulse slowed by the fear of a fate with no rescue.

Flashback:

I offer him my soul if he will spare my life.
I bargain with the shadows of men in nightmares daily.
I make promises, I search for an escape, but my body is not my own.

Now my body is on its own.

My spirit seeks refuge and weeps perched high in sympathetic trees.
The scent of eucalyptus tarnished by the odor of anger's sweat.

Grotesquely connected to the man before me — I sense he has no heart.

I call out loud and hear my voice echo as it disappears into the vast blue space.

Suddenly: my life will be spared by a breeze through the trees.

A fawn splinters a stick.
An angel exhales.
He is gone.

I lay stunned and fragmented on bent grass.
Traces of tears and cells distorted along the forest floor.
Sacred spaces mixed with dirt, bugs, and blood.

I have to run, I have to escape.
I do not dare look back.
I gather what is left and I leave most everything behind.

Inside there is a pregnant void, like the pool in early Fall — dying leaves, hollow ground — memories of another life.

I remember a future that I will never feel. Shadows grow tall and outline the regret of passing days.

Flooded once again by the present moment which seeps
with the grief of all that was felt and seen.

An imprint so profound it will be impossible to erase.

How do I guide myself back inside myself?
What magic will it take to make my inner world safe?

I attempt to make sense.
I try to use my words, but two languages are not nearly enough.
I make art. I sing songs. I create.

My body leads the way through this pain.

I try to believe. I try to trust.

I try to be here now…
and still:

I flow in every direction with the chaotic current. I am too tired to resist.
Acceptance may be my survival, and I choose to let go, my last ounce of energy expelled.

I surrender and soften into the darkness of the ocean.
Swirling water reflects my disoriented brain and encircles my heart with insatiable sadness.
The surf holds dreams and danger — and it decides when.

The preciousness of a life cycle irrevocably transformed in an instant.
Floating in salty liquid, my fear seeps to the surface of my skin.
Saturated by sensation, I ask the Atlantic the question that risks crushing my last hope.

This simple contemplation, followed by an unspeakable knowing – the inevitable heartbreak of my longing disappears into the void:

Why me?

Why me?

Why me?

A wave surges, and I expand.

I stretch myself across the crest, a desperate attempt to transcend the weight of my own loss —

Coughing in shallow water, sandy rocks slide beneath my flesh.
My body bobs and bends gently like the rise of the tide.
Gasping like a newborn into a second life, I wait out a slow recovery…

Hours pass before the sea settles and I can see clearly.

A smooth black fin sends a ripple of circles across the still surface, and dissolves back
into the swell: no trace. A secret kept, a mystery too profound for the human mind to contain.

Acceptance will be my survival, and I relinquish a futile quest to comprehend.

Slowly he will sink into the depths of my memory
with a woman's grace, I will find a way, a choice that sets me free.

Having finally absorbed the metaphor of cetaceans, having truly felt it in my flesh:
the long distance swim of survival is not catalyzed by my efforting.

It is, in fact, my allowing that propels me,
buoyant and infinite.

Flowing forward through this mysterious dark turquoise. Conserving breath to travel down deep only to rise for relief.

Erasing my edges with the forgiveness of water
following and trusting, even amidst my ego’s questioning.

Experiencing and embracing the inevitable fluidity
that which is forever beyond body: the resilience of the Soul.