The Tide

Vast oceans

Explosions

of color

The notion

of breathing salt

Weightless, timeless, shapeless

You float

Eyes closed

The waves show the way

Sure lines

To the shoreline

A muddy disposition

Impossible position

The beach is a desert

Empty

Sleep now, in your sand bed

The sound of time

Tick, tick talks in your mind

You are lost

I am losing ground

Metaphysically ill

Since your lungs soaked up the sound

Searching for the first step back

So that we may move forward