Far out in the Ocean (draft)

Dry, silver scales speak on my tongue

of glittering waves and the deepest depths.

But I can only reach them when

the blue calls me back.


When the blue calls me back and

the silver scales become me.

I long to dive down inside my mind

to search for the reason why;


I cannot recall ever being this hungry

for something my memory no longer holds.

Yet the pumping of my heart mirrors

the weight of liquid cornflowers.


And I know the foam will gather.

One day.