Cave Diving

by Cassie Schmitz

Later, you would ask me
to marry you. After we began

our ascent, could see the sun
shifting over us

at the mouth of the cave.
I would never tell you

what happened
in the last chamber

as your air tanks
disappeared in the dust.

How strange it was
watching you swim above me.

How for an instant
in the darkness there were

no memories, no body.
The guide line pulling me.

How, like an ancient fish
come up from the deep,

I could not see.
Did not want to see.

CASSIE SCHMITZ is from Tallahassee, FL. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Mid-American Review, Cimarron Review, DIAGRAM, Salamander, and elsewhere. She lives in Boston, MA, where she received her MFA from Boston University and currently works for a biomaterials engineering lab.