You get used to scraping bottom down here under shallow waters where darkness grows tall and the mountains fall like old friends and our grandfathers.
All my worries turn themselves over like ripples in the sand and the silt tastes sweet like a buttery ****** as I pull myself with outstretched webbed hands and feet.
Cascades of blue and grey descend on times with only you and I pretending to be him and her and who and where and that mountain over there looks like a perfect place to stop and stare at the world.
Coldly beating slowly my hearts skipping like a rock onto the surface of the ocean old friends cross legged on the dock.
Above our heads no longer finding purpose here the waters crystal clear but I can't see the fish and they're so beautiful this time of year.
Reclusive smiles cast my nets against the shoreline hoping one day.
Just one day. Just one day.
You were death way before I died and I loved it.
All I have left now is to wait for nothing.