Perils of Amnesia

Breeze.
Breeze that made my hair tickle your face
Blush-turned-irritation
Love-ridden air pushing me off the cliff
A dagger in my back
A self-fulfilling prophecy
I dive into the wreck
No, not quicksand
Because it feels good
Mysterious topography
Unknown terrains
I venture deeper
I splash in mesmerizing emerald waters
Unaware of the venom of black
It pulls me down
Vision blurs
My tongue touches the roof of my mouth
I taste death
I move against gravity.