the drowning

i am a bad swimmer
she says,
wading cautiously
out beyond
the shore,
but the sea
doesn't seem
to mind.
it gathers me
in it's cool
hands
and pulls me
towards
the center. i wish
love was like
that, she smiles.
deep
and mysterious.
dangerous
and alive.
the relentless
new waves
washing against
me with
affection.
why can't love
be like that,
but it is you tell
her, watching
as she
goes under.