Waves
One
Slip beneath the ocean covers, into restless sleep and breathless dream. Dive into the wild abandon at the bottom of the day. The beach crashes with the end of consciousness. The jaded, jutting edge of dry land comes tumbling down. Sail away on a pillow of foam. Hear the echoes of reality inside sea shells as the shore grows distant.
Now, you’re swimming. That’s the way, out where the kraken lunge and the continental shelf plunges into blackest ink. Go where the kelp forests are long and ropey, whispering in the current like a thousand green, anchored and stretched souls, reaching out with long leaves to stroke the passing fishes. Go where the manta rays are gliding phantoms and phantasms, skirting the roundness of unseen, glassy bowls. Go where the tangle of life is at its thickest.
I see you, long and silver, like a dart. You’ve become something else, something prehistoric, with a monstrous, hoary, corkscrewed nail at the end of your devil’s finger. I see you transformed by magic, and you see me.
You see the sea, and it waves.
Now, you’re swimming. That’s the way, out where the kraken lunge and the continental shelf plunges into blackest ink. Go where the kelp forests are long and ropey, whispering in the current like a thousand green, anchored and stretched souls, reaching out with long leaves to stroke the passing fishes. Go where the manta rays are gliding phantoms and phantasms, skirting the roundness of unseen, glassy bowls. Go where the tangle of life is at its thickest.
I see you, long and silver, like a dart. You’ve become something else, something prehistoric, with a monstrous, hoary, corkscrewed nail at the end of your devil’s finger. I see you transformed by magic, and you see me.
You see the sea, and it waves.