Vacation

I walk along the skirt
Of a lake untouched
By melancholy reality

I cup my hands
Brimmed with water pure
And drain my face of the smog
Still clinging to eyelashes
And the grease
Still smudging at features

My face purified
I wonder
At the pool pristine
I rise
Slowly to savor
And I flood lungs
with air so crisp
It cuts at my throat

And in this moment
Of divinity
Of purity
Of destiny
My imperfect shoe rebels
And slips against rock

I fall

A suspended symbol
Of everything that is
But should not be

And I slip
Into perfect depths
And I flail
But cannot swim
And I cry
But cannot be heard
And I sink

I drown

Swallowed by the loveliness
Of the unblemished world