The Plunge

She stood at the edge,
Tingling of expectation,
Looking upon her task ahead.
The river below was wider than she was used to,
But at this one particular bend,
It was deep.  It looked protected.
She wore her favorite skintight one piece,
Hair pulled back,
Anticipating the exhilaration,
Wrapped in palatable fear.

She had researched this challenge, online,
Weighing the pros and cons,
Of each potential plummet.
She eventually settled on this milieu.
It looked welcoming, tamable,
With enough risk to satisfy her darker fringe,
Without putting her in real danger.
But now, as she looked at her undertaking closely,
A silhouette of misgiving, a heaviness inside her,
But an unquenchable desire, prevailing.

She felt warm, not from golden rays on a deep cerulean sky;
She was flushed, fervently.
A deep gasp, inhaling before the dive,
And she pushed herself downward off the verge,
A hegemonic fall, breaking the surface,
Feeling every inch of the space inhabited,
As she journeyed deeper, further,
Hitting the bottom, finding her push posture,
And muscularly, powerfully thrusting back upwards,
Taking a deep breath as she broke the surface.