Cold

I search for words To describe this feeling... After you told me You hate me... I remember when I went swimming in the ocean One day in January... Ice was curled in elaborate design Of wind-blown swirls on the sand... Snowflakes mixed with grains of sand And bitter wind blew both into my face- Sea foam blew across the beach Like stray, sodden mushroom clouds And the ocean waves were dark And angry... It was so cold, this January... But I wasn't scared. That day, I had I thought of The ocean in autumn; When I swam last in autumn, It was October, and the Wind was harsh and strong; Waves were wild with The fresh memory of stormclouds, So they crested high and broke hard On the beach... The sun hadn't shone that day either. The water, when I dove into it, Was cold, but warmer than the air- Vicious to look at, But under the surface of the waves Still gentle as summer... Familiar... I had gone back in more than once Just because I loved the feel, The pull of the current, the raw energy Of the water against my skin, And I dove through waves again And again... I knew it would be worse this time, A few months later And so many degrees colder... I almost decided not to do it When I peeled off my coat, My shirt, my boots, pants, and socks... The wind bit my skin hard, tearing Into my warm body, and the gound, Icy, was like bared teeth against the soles Of my feet... Too late to back out now. So I ran, barefoot, over ice-ringed Puddles of seawater and snow-flecked sand... I reached the water, the first soft waves... I was slowed by the foamy surf, Which, only knee-deep, was a strong deterrent, But then I was past it, and I dove... That first, frigid, smack in the face As the water closed over my head Stole all heat, all memory of heat, From my body all in an instant... I surfaced gasping in shock, Heart about to either stop or burst- I'm still not sure which, All I could think of was the cold... It was so cold... Colder than anything I've ever known... I retreated clumsily- I should have recoiled from the ground, Stepping quickly and lightly Over cruelly sharp grains of Equally mixed ice and sand, But I could no longer feel the cold... I could feel nothing... Could think nothing... When you told me you hate me... It felt like that.