She is the undertow you do not feel until you are under,
the quiet drag beneath the surface pulling down like thunder,
she does not crash or roar or make the water look unkind,
she just pulls you out past safety and you do not seem to mind
I felt her current first in the way she looked too long,
that steady stare that held me like the chorus of a song
I could not stop humming, could not get out of my head,
she is the undertow and I am happily misled
Pull of the undertow, she drags me past the line,
pull of the undertow, I am running out of time,
the surface is above me and I am choosing not to swim,
pull of the undertow, I am going down with her, going in
Her body pressed to mine was like water filling lungs,
warm and slow and overwhelming, speaking foreign tongues
that the skin translates before the brain can catch the drift,
she is the undertow and I am giving in to the shift
Every time I surface she is there at the shore,
looking down with that half-smile daring me to want more,
and I dive back under like a man who lost the plot,
pull of the undertow toward the only thing I have got
She does not mean to drown me, or maybe that is a lie,
maybe drowning is the point and I am willing to comply,
her fingers in my hair beneath the waterline of need,
pull of the undertow, and I am following her lead