Underwater Ballerina
The lemon grass scent belonged to her pecan tinted skin.
Her stare soft but filled with a pinch of fear.
When the breeze roared and fell on us heavy like a brick.
With a Sun that fell weak to our cries and silent to hear.
Water that exploded dark grey splashes of red and blue.
The storm had hit our cruise ship and I was lost with a few.
Before, I had received a medallion with a foreign time on it.
We fell over and drowned with the time set on ancient.
The clock glowed with rainbow spice and sparked under water light.
The colorful bubbles shook the stiff water around that suffered.
I saw myself drowning frozen in baby blue time with a ballerinas white dress.
I saw my long tree oak brown hair floating in a misery of fragments.
Deleted events of memories and paintings no one could seem to save.
Ladies with strict fluffy hair styles and dressers, horse carriages, using things made from clay.
I was slowly falling to my fate in a time of yesterday.
The distinct sounds of jazz and the high pitch cry of the guitar.
I was forced to adjust. I was expected to change my elements.
To the way they lived and say the things they say.
I swam up to the shore and saw that my skin was only aged outside of the ocean.
Would I go back to the time I knew best or be forced to foreign customs.
The medallion was dangerous and drowned me with unknown existence.
A history that repeats itself anyway if we only allowed it.