The Trip

I was boating down a local river when I saw her, or maybe possibly an it.  The water parted near a chin, revealing lips bigger than the largest part of me.  Eyes shone down green moons reflecting on the surface of the water.  It seemed that it might breathe me in, or swallow my form whole without the slightest notice that it had.

I screamed loudly, though I could decipher any ears.  Plants covered a great deal, as weeds and other matter wrapped itself around.

The current pulled me outside the boat and closer.  I prayed that she, I was rather sure it was a she now, would notice and take pity.  But her expression simply stayed as blank as ever.  It seemed she was asleep, or even frozen.

Hand grasped lip.  I splayed myself against the top edge of her chin.  Waves splashed against the surface into my mouth.  Oxygen diminished.  I knew I was drowning, losing strength and soon would fall.  The only path toward safety was itself, perilous.  But if it was indeed the only way, I had to take it.

With all remaining strength I scaled my way into the mouth.  The teeth did not clamp down but rather stayed as steady as they always had.

Inside, I relaxed against a tongue that was soft as it was wet.  The warmth renewed me from the bitter cold the river gave.  An endless whisper permeated thoughts.  Tissue gently squeezed, embraced.

Our first kiss.