Christine’s Resuscitation


Ocean Wave

Silver whistle and board shorts,
accustomed to giving CPR so,
kissing, he tilted my head too far back.
I could feel him run his fingers
along my throat, pulse-checking.

Sometimes I held my breath,
stilled my chest and waited
for him to panic, but that
sharp chill never came –
he was always warm, calm.

In bed, I’d lift the blue
coverlet behind my back,
straddle him, grin, call
Tidal wave! then fall onto
his tan chest.

Evenings, standing on a balcony,
he’d shove me towards gravity’s tug,
then quick-grab me back, explaining
I saved you. See?
I saved you.


Listen to this poem:


About Author

Amber Shockley was awarded Gray’s College Bookstore’s Award for Creative Writing in 2002. After a ten year hiatus during which various, sordid things happened, she reappeared as a finalist for Reed’s Edwin Markham Prize in 2012. She received her MFA in Poetry from Queens University of Charlotte in 2013. Since, she has published sporadically in print as well as in online journals and blogs. Her poetry focuses on women’s experience, poverty and mental illness.

Comments are closed.

%d bloggers like this: