Partial to the Drowning Moment

How do people not drown in moments?
How do people sit beside a pool wherein
The desires of their soul are swimming,
And upon entry to the water, not drown
In hydro-psychedelic highs of their heart
Teased in yearning? How do they return
From that lucid existence alive and not
Erupt into a fountain of embarrassment
Before that pool, leaking out the stream
Of emotion they have for the experience
Of the desire, whatever it was to them—
”Thing thing!” “The opportunity!” “Her.”

Either the moment is not over, or I am
Stuck in an invincible drowning state
For my mind is overflowing with her—
One who only took a moment of mine.
And I took a moment of hers, I wonder
If there is even a small hot tap dripping
Inside her mind from when we aligned,
Bonding over little things that the heart
Palpitates for when nobody’s looking,
Like those joking insults that hid how
I’d complement her from head to soul.
God, I’m just drowning from the start.