The pool reflects deep with shallows, an opaque pearl
she has always been beautiful, even now, even then,
she dives without concern, because, what else can happen?
When people die, that’s how you feel, invulnerable in the face
of dreads previously unimagined
and also, terribly, terribly aware of pain.
Some hide the rest of their lives, others drive fast cars at night
not wearing their glasses
she is one of those who stands somewhere in-between
the grief of injury lies heavy on her dark shoulders
still, she plunges into water, imagining other realities
one where she never knew horror and horror never knew her
where babies were born perfect and whole
husbands did not get crushed in half and
soured settlements buys them luxury
they’d trade it all in, to have him whole
less angry, more able to be, swimming underwater with her.
not lost, broken even after healing, crushed despite being repaired
holding the welt of injury in his throat like a choking bird.
She has moved on from who she was
ten years ago in Africa
under the sun, hiding from herself, hiding from kaleidoscopic future
it has come, blooming wild and spreading its green fingers
into her oval mouth
she has no time for passion anymore
she has no patience for imagination
she can only swim
cutting through the reluctant weight of water
like a blunt knife will eventually carve
the true price of things.