He floated then,
adrift, with the cool water lapping at his exposed edges,
heaving him upward into the too bright sun
before drawing him down into the inky darkness.
Pushing and pulling.
Here where the sky kissed the earth.
What was he to do but let the water choose?
Ah, the eternal conflict.
The Girl Who Speaks (To Herself)
Thank you! 😀
Flows well, nice.
Thank you 😀
Love this. Simple but deep.
“What was he to do but let the water chose” your words seemed magical with this interpretation. Loved the ending!
Thank you so much! 😀