Shapes in the landscape and kisses left on window panes ,
stains on the bed sheets and all of these meet in the end.
Most of the time
I live far below the waterline where the air is strung out in bubbling lungs,occasionally climbing the rungs to the surface.
I have seen all that I need and fed lightly on greed,watched the passing of wars, saw raw hatred and love cooked in the hearts of desire.
I now have the tranquility of being deep undersea,the wall of the artery is built within me and my home.
And even deeper where the sleeping dogs lie there is a light that dances,flashing glances I see that the light also sees me which is something I strive for,something to stay alive for.
But the ocean is a turbulent place for the man with no face and the waves conspire to put out the fire that burns,each wave takes it in turns to pummel and pound the watery ground where I stand,not knowing that I am the rock that this man stands upon,we are one and the same,
I am the kiss that smudges,the stain that refuses to budge,the shape that you see,the blood that flows hotly through the heat of the artery.
I am the heart in me,I beat against time and time beats inside me,under the sea
it's all it can be
I expect no more than that.