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Getting farther and farther away from the shore. Past the coral shelf, Where a young boy absorbs the warmth of a peach cobbler sky. With small feet kicking, tiny bronzed toes momentarily meet the tangerine sky-line; Until the horizon cools to a blueberry hue, dusted by drops of indigo dew. Below the surface, rocks, boneless creatures, and bacteria seem so simple, lining the bottom of a soundless cerulean world; They need only hydrogen sulfide to survive. Inside, mute and alive, these parallel forms of symbiosis lie, in a microcosm and macrocosm of biorhythms which might never be fully discovered, or recovered. A nature of smooth, yet callous motions swirl and calm. Too infinite to know compassion, this place; Where one predator strikes through a layer of dark at its prey, while another chokes on a piece of plastic. At times, it’s difficult for the boy to see, through the veil of the deep blue drink, where a gulp of air and a gasp in brine, leaves him floating amid the liquid line. Still, he seeks – the constant baptism within his reach, And with the torpid flow of the tide to teach – he knows, Evolution and Being exist together, at his sandy feet.
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Aug 31, 2011
Aug 31, 2011 at 1:57 AM UTC
Belly (Path Of The Sea)
Getting farther and farther away from the shore. Past the coral shelf, Where a young boy absorbs the warmth of a peach cobbler sky. With small feet kicking, tiny bronzed toes momentarily meet the tangerine sky-line; Until the horizon cools to a blueberry hue, dusted by drops of indigo dew. Below the surface, rocks, boneless creatures, and bacteria seem so simple, lining the bottom of a soundless cerulean world; They need only hydrogen sulfide to survive. Inside, mute and alive, these parallel forms of symbiosis lie, in a microcosm and macrocosm of biorhythms which might never be fully discovered, or recovered. A nature of smooth, yet callous motions swirl and calm. Too infinite to know compassion, this place; Where one predator strikes through a layer of dark at its prey, while another chokes on a piece of plastic. At times, it’s difficult for the boy to see, through the veil of the deep blue drink, where a gulp of air and a gasp in brine, leaves him floating amid the liquid line. Still, he seeks – the constant baptism within his reach, And with the torpid flow of the tide to teach – he knows, Evolution and Being exist together, at his sandy feet.
ted-boughter-dornfeld
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Aug 31, 2011
Aug 31, 2011 at 1:57 AM UTC
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