Ira Sukrungruang

I tilt my ears back into the lake and look up,

letting the water fill the drums and make sound distant and lonely;

my legs rise until my toes break the surface and point at the blinding sun;

slowly my bottom follows and I am lying on water,

floating as if I belong on the rippling surface

and not on the shore where gravity makes my body heavy and slow;

here, the heavier I am the quicker I rise;

here, no matter how fast I try to sink something is able to hold me up.