Floating

I imagine myself floating.

Floating somewhere like the middle of the Atlantic,

somewhere that is both quietly empty and full of life .

I, in reality, am both terrified of deep water and not a very good swimmer

but when I imagine myself like this I’m not.

When I imagine myself like this I am unafraid and floating.

I am something small and hollow

like one of my grandmother’s Russian nesting dolls,

small and hollow, full of smaller hollow things.

I imagine that if something tapped me I would echo,

I imagine that I am nowhere near anything that could.

I imagine that my echoing doesn’t scare me,

that being alone doesn’t scare me.

I imagine that maybe this is what happiness feels like,

that it feels like anything else without the fear.