No one has squeezed me tighter than my own skin

No one has squeezed me tighter than my own skin,

as I wade into the blue expanse.

Waiting, for a monstrous exertion of seafoam to

envelope me.

Time passes and passes and all this waiting does not fruit.

I decide to dive into the deep blueness I often cling so tightly to.

The ephemeral waves throw me into a weightless reality,

and I am a child again.

Where only my father’s arms have the ability to propel me and repel

gravity,

in one swift heave.

An ethereal tide wells up behind my eyes.

And a drop of clarity cascades down my sea kissed cheek,

comprised of liquid multiplicities.

What’s inside is out and what’s outside is within.

I am no match for the ocean’s enormity.

Falling, floundering, I fail to find footing amid the malleable mass.

My head breaches and I am reminded that we are not in conflict.

As if on a hinge loosened by years of wear, my head pivots.

Upward!

The azure mirror reflecting back this body I float in.

My origin.

The ripples ripen into rolling green peaks.

Is it possible that now my eyes are the source of this reflection?

My hand plunges deep into the water,

and garners nothing.

Clarity!

I tumble like a marble.

The crystalline water smoothes my edges and lays my body to rest.

Waking up on a bed of sand anew

I am home.