“The Addict” by Gavin Cross

There’s a photograph, crumpling
under the glass top on my dresser,
of the snow angels we made
on the frozen lake. It was there
You told me you felt most at home
in the sky. among treetops.
The cool, light sugar of pine.
But no one photographed the day
You took a breath underwater.
The day you decided you needed
The salt in your lungs,
the biting, savory heat, to live.
So you spend your time divided
among the two. Wondering who’s
a fish and who’s a penguin.
I say it’s simple. If you love both
worlds, make your home in the sky.
But how could I know?
This is something you’ve learned.
Psychologists call it a conditioned
response. I call it muddy water.
No ice. I hate winter and so do you.
something we have in common.
Remember the lake is still frozen.
the only warmth the snow angels
holding back the water’s breath.