ocean of a mind

Having not the patience to distill the stillness of my mind, i perturb it.

Froth comes at the corners of my mouth, both in dream and in madness

swaying back and forth, churning latent instincts to the surface

a breath of wind flutters and ripples the waters, and my jaw is tense 

snaping in and out of an external delirium, how I love this space.

Snapped up between two trees, my hammock is a ribcage, softened by the winter tide

I expand and contract as a pendulum, giving and taking chances to memoirs of prose

Gifting and regifting thoughts, laced in strands of mermaid hair

I stroke my chin and remember my beard.

The pandamonium in a never-place, of flutes and lost reasons 

I remember them as happy things, and they rise to the top

Harping girls, an ocean of them, stringing out feelings like reels

reeling me, winding me up and down, and my legs are seaweed.

Reviews

[Mr. Lopez]

This reminds me of the creative process of creating such a piece. Well done.