by the knots in my hair and the bruises on my thighs

sitting on a checker-board painted rock i let my feet, shoes and all, lightley dip into the cool water.
above me life still rushes by in its usual, busy fashion, but here, time is still and unique.

up the stream is a large water fall that can only be seen from this ground level, boulders framing each side where i have yet to gather enough courage to dive from into the merky abyss.

stepping into the river, my river, clothes and all, i go until the water is at my knees, then at my chest, and finally at my shoulders.

scanning my direction to the other side i plunge under and make my way to the wall with mosaics.

(if he were here he'd have panicked by now) i've been under i while now...but i know where i am; the light just dimmed drastically as i entered the shadow of the structure.

reaching my point, i clutch to a rock with scribbles and pull myself out onto the sand. 
finally here, plopping down, i admire my favorite piece of graffiti done long ago of an angry moose with intricate  gang symbols and hymnotic swirling eyes.

...i never want them to find me when i'm here...