I have lived by the misty lake
with the grumpy mudfish,
and the stubborn algae
that stick to my knees for some time.
Seek me out in the cattails along the bank.
There you will see me, bare
in all my stupidity
for loving a man who cannot see the beauty of the tranquil water
taking up space so beautifully,
like my body in his embrace,
a water lily
floating with no direction,
in the reflected watery sky.
I remembered I would take refuge by the lake
that is glassy in the noontime,
to purify my tears,
calcified tears that
made it hard to see.
I would tred the uncertain lake
with uneasy feet,
my unleveled arms in front of me.
There I was,
with tired eyes and no direction.
Who was I to be then?