the waves were powerful as they swept me along, salt and sunlight stinging in my eyes. sometimes you could watch them build from far away, anticipating the heavy hit once they came to you, but sometimes you were too busy to notice and were knocked over by the rushing water.

i'd wait for a wave to come and once it did, i'd guide myself into it. the water would grasp me firmly by the waist and lift me, like my older brothers would when i was younger, like a lover would if they wanted to. at one point you swam up to me and lifted me up with the waves, but the lovers' bond ended quickly as you swam away, hoping i wouldn't catch up and kiss you.
so there i'd wait until the waves picked me up again, feeling the sand leave from my toes and become weightless.

swimming seems so foreign in a world of floating. the ocean is so big and breathes so heavily that we get lost in the movement of the lungs, and still you swim, moving here and there to stall from the inevitable.

laying in the sand and sucking on pall malls, i watched the smoke float off into the wind, whipping like a fluid veil latched onto nothing. when the wind dies, it blooms gracefully from my lungs and lips and into the summer sun, curling into itself without a worry of where it may be going. i watched people talk and their breaths would walk so briskly into any ears they could get to, pushing my smoke aside and fumbling to get where it needed to be. the words were erratic and shook the air.

i watched you swim and i listened to you talk but all i wanted to do was float. i wanted to stretch my body towards the sky and grow thin and wind in curls, i wanted to be pushed along the coast and back into the water by the evercoming tide, i wanted to float on and on and on. i wanted to ride.

eventually though, i had to walk off. i dried off with a towel, i put out my cigarette, i felt the earth under my feet and what weight i pressed onto the ground, leaving marks from every bit of flesh that hit the sand. i would always leave marks.
i would always leave marks but they weren't nearly as poised as the wrinkle in your forehead
the white veins in the iris of your blue eyes
the jagged edges of your words when they hit at my chest and
how difficult it was to breathe from the punch.
Quote by Arthur Curry
it's official, vintage x metal is the saving grace of this board and/or the antichrist

e-married to
& alaskan_ninja

Last edited by vintage x metal at Sep 13, 2010,
The only thing I didn't like about this was the title, as it's the first thing we see and it gave too much of the feeling away, i'd rather be slowly swept away. It may seem like nit-picking but I felt that I knew what was happening right away, when that first sentence hit I wanted to feel it. Knowing it was going to happen slightly took this away.

But I like your prose pieces and this had some nice imagery in it. You're very good at establishing place and mood. I enjoyed this.
I'm with Hendrix.

Save for... i also found this to be a bit of a laborious read. It took me a couple tries to really get into it and then get through it. I'm not sure why... there was mood and images; but it read slow and lumberingly (yes, I just made up that word - it's an adverb to describe the way a lumberjack walks while carrying a mule with a broken leg AND dragging (uphill, mind you) a sixty foot long oak tree that has recently been felled). I think it may just be the denseness of motion within the piece and how a lot of ideas are dancing back and forth on a parking block, trying not to fall into the pretend lava.
Everything but the ending made me want to go swimming in the ocean. I have no complaints save for that I wish this had been happier.

I love your prose. I'm on the opposite end of where Zach was with this, I was actually planning on coming back and reading this later but it got me. Good job.
Today I feel electric grey
I hope tomorrow, neon black
lots of pretty thoughts in here. and it was a pretty short eventually if your cigarette was still rolling. that kind of threw me off. id like to see this move more fluidly.
but still, lots of pretty thoughts.
Anatomy Anatomy
Whale Blue Review

Park that car
Drop that phone
Sleep on the floor
Dream about me
so i read this right after you posted it and i've been trying to gather my thoughts on it ever since. first, i'll reiterate that this would benefit from a more economical approach, especially given the subject matter (the ephemeral freedom and joy of floating in a wave), that being said, while the pace detracted from it, i still enjoyed the concept and metaphor a good deal. the idea and the parallel between leaving the water and the return to reality (blow to the chest) was nicely executed. overall i liked this. it's a sadness that's hard to deal with.