Surrender

Today I surrender.
To what has been calling to me since yesterday.
Gravity too heavy on my shoulders.
Knees too weak. Feet of gelatin.
Head like a boulder.
I surrender, floor.
You have me, all of me.
I belong to you and the dust mites and the creepy crawly things,
To the grain of wood that will soon be embedded in my skin.
I belong to you and your cold cold embrace.
May you not lose the strength to hold me up
As my salty corrosive tears drench your planks.
Soggy like an old ship's deck.
If you fail, we fall together.
You and I, dear floor.
Right down to the basement.
There we can surrender to the cement.
It will take considerably more tears to soften it.
I believe we can lie there peacefully as long as we like.