my careless contagion

I have a fear of drowning. Not me personally, though. I fear my son drowning.  Last weekend, my mother said she had a dream my son, Isaiah, went straight into their pool. A few weeks earlier, my oldest brother invited me and my son to spend some time with them on a lake. I declined because I said the water was too deep there, and I didn't feel comfortable having my son around water that deep. Soon after I said that, a friend of our family mentioned her son fell into a river while they were on vacation, and she had to jump in to save him. I felt justified.  This could be considered paranoia. If I didn't believe in the supernatural, I might agree.  I've had more than a dozen dreams of my son falling into water since he was born. Every time I would have those dreams, I would pray over him. When my little family moved to a property with moving water (three different water sources), the dreams remained the same.  I never kept Isaiah from playing near water, a...

I woke with a start. I knew I couldn't go back to sleep. It was 5 a.m., and my heart was pounding because the dreams were so real, because I was at my own funeral, and wasn't it ironic, man? There I was, walking, trying not to get hit by cars when I crossed the road, amazed by all the people who I knew and didn't know who wanted to see me put in the ground. The truth is, I feel like that most days. Like I died so long ago, left myself in the dirt somewhere. Where? My boyhood home? That night I didn't kiss the girl? The night I kissed the wrong girl? The night she cried in her underwear on the dining room floor and it was so cold? Maybe when I left her behind in that place, when I drove those lonely miles to start a new life? When she told me with the devil in her eyes that she would kill me if I left her? Every day is another step closer to that day they put me in the ground. Why is it so important that people are there to see it when I'm not even there...

I don't know the time, but I know it's the killing hour it's the time of night when she comes and slays me in my bed again My teeth are clenched as her body moves against mine my hands speak for me my pleading, prying cause She sighs, exhales, turns toward me my eyes are shut because I know if I open them she won't be there Her top leg reaches over mine and draws me closer her arm goes under mine and fingers dig into my back She presses her body on mine her lips search my face, my neck, my chest her eyelashes flutter in the dark sleepily her body says yes Every nerve in my body is at attention every synapse is awake and alive the fabric between us evaporates with tenderness and carefulness  Her breath is hot on my face her body is warm and moist her smell is driving me wild but I am paralyzed Tears squeeze out my tightly-shut eyes frustration mounts if she were here, oh, if she were really h...