The Water's Fine I'm in the water, waist deep. I'm studying it with my touch and taste, feeling drifting chills come and haunt me so that I bury myself down into the depths, coating my head and the rest of me with the glittering nip. I'll stay there for now. I want to make you worry, to dip in after me and touch the coldness that touches me in the dark of water as you brush my skin. Too much thought for one dip, so I come back up and see you sitting there, waiting for my head to bob out from the surface. I know from your look that you're waiting for my voice to say, Come on in. The water's fine.
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