Your eyes, akin to oil spills
Gleaming green, blue, yellow-brown pool together
To pull me in. Keep me stuck.

I have spoken of drowning before.
But in your presence, I am content.

Feet stop kicking.
Body stops flailing.

With my nostrils flared upwards
I stare at the calm vast sky ahead.

I succumb to the stillness,
As you entrap me.

---

Isa Abril – writer with a feral fervor. Twitter: @amazingfringe