Dip

The first foray into the deeps always
the worst. The tentative step in oh,
it's cold water as it tastes feet, grabs at
ankles, nibbles its way up to knee,
thigh, crotch, waist: can't do this,
can't. The back twitches as the wet
creeps further up the spine; nipples
held back by a thin resolve of color
shrivel in protest. Body shivers with
the dread of okay, now. N o w. On
three. One. Two still too -- O N E.
Two. Threeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
OH that's cold. Teeth are chattering,
skin turning blue and goosefleshed:
but doesn't that water feel ... g r e a t?

(c) 2009, Karla Dorman