All That Jaz: dive

An exclusive, new work from his cycle "All That Jaz". And, yes, that is the correct spelling. There's a new sheriff in town.

dive

The edge is treacherous.
The fall, a choice to be made
when measured against treasured memory
and precognizant futures, nurtured by hope.

And so, I push out and over,
my arc marking my willingness
to test my skill and durability
against the rocks that may yet wait for me.

Into the dark wells that call me,
that stall me not with word games
and the names of those who just missed,
who just kissed to be kissing something.

Your eyes are pools of moments unmade,
built upon a possibility I can entertain,
if you leave them open long enough,
just long enough, and do not blink when I touch.

The surface tension of your heart,
a sudden, crescendo of images and prayer
laid bare like your shoulders when you are bolder
and hide not behind a shy smile, as I dive.

For only your will controls
whether I live or die in the instant
when your waters rise to meet me
and swallow me up in the heat of your soul.


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.