Foam in Prose

I feel like an ocean explorer
a sailor lost at sea
there are endless expanses of water
trapped behind my teeth.
They surge around my bitter tongue
in rage swept cacophony
and drag me down without a sound
to drown in the dark lit sea.
My head feels like a hurricane
my eyes - blue window panes
misty fog consumes the sound
of all that belongs to me.
My molars are two islands
my tongue a wooden raft
the shaleful shores of my incisors
are not what hold me back.
Ink becomes the water
which drips between my lips
and I can see no further
than me lead-stained fingertips.
They flow across this ocean page
riding gently upon the waves
lost to all but literature
but in my sea foam mouth; safe.
And when my words do cease to flow
back to the ocean -
I will go,
no longer trapped behind my teeth
to find the answers
deep below.