the undertow

the undertow is strong today.
the life guards
are standing in their chairs
blowing their
whistles,
waving red flags.
the wind is fierce.
the waves crackle with water
from the deepest
parts of the ocean,
cold and brittle
against white legs.
on the shore they press
their hands
against the chests of swimmers
who went too far
and under,
now blue without air
in their lungs. at night
I feel the pull of that same
ocean,
working against the blood
in my veins, wanting more
of me than i'm able to give.