I am wet.
Your feet break my surface. I embrace them. Seek out the empty spaces. Fill the void between your toes.
I call out to the water inside you. Suck you in. Tuck you in.
The weight of your body presses on my soft inners. You move with haste. Lose yourself in my overflowing maze.
Your presence is draining. Heating.
A sweet drizzle tickles my face. The soft wind sends me rippling. Waves in my hair.
I am the echo of the night sky.
Tell me your slimy secrets and I will tell you mine. All that my darkness holds.
Hesitate and you sink further. Dissolve. I want you to. The distinction between our bodies collapses into shared watery existence. We are one.
Rupture. Cold water from beneath gushes into my body.
Penetrates my veins. Drowning. Growing.
Can you hear me? The squishy sound when I let you go. I exist outside of you. In spite of you.
I do not take prisoners.
I rise like the sea.
Flow, trickle, seep.
Life is within me.
I am she.
This text was written as a comment to our first individual task where the participants were asked to embody the swamp, Lappkärret.