Genessaret (Going Out Over 30,000 Fathoms Of Water) (Anathallo)

We looked hard; I stood on the bottom. Calloused tiptoes, Splintering wood, Waterlogging. Break up, come back together. Genessaret. I want to skip like a stone from a stronger arm. Each one I throw is moving somewhere. Oh, let me go. I will go out, out, out, out Past these yellow ropes. I am not afraid. They sway there like The shredded ones hung From my parents' tree Where I pumped my legs And I broke into sweat. I never saw my face In the bird bath mirror, Red as blood And I was tired. For a minute short, there was a wonder. A sense after the momentary weird blur, In the space of expectancy When you wake, When you open your eyes. When you expect to see the same thing that You've seen. First, the ceiling: Grey from great oak. Grey from great oak. He'd thrown his net over us. (Stringy hands, stained glass) And all his sounds, the same today. But my body changed. Something in the salty sheets Was pressing in on me. Stuck and stinging, I keep rolling.