Transformation can be so aqueous,
One moment drenched in apathy,
another soaked in sweat and promise,
only to so vehemently dissolve
into two people with no love held between them.
to marvelously exemplefy my theory
that Zeus is hell-bent on fucking with my life,
the desire has returned.
Ambiguity is my cradle,
coherency my grave
and here i sit on top of it all,
looking down at the great rumblings of lands far away.
Rejection answers the wounded growl,
revealing in its wake
an assembly of expectations in every direction.
Like a rip tide seducing me further from the shore,
these experiences remind me
that the flow of nature is immediate and righteously overwhelming.
I am out here paddling,
breathing like fire
as the moment grip my spirit
in its aqueous palms.
Live or die are not the options right now;
pumping force to stay afloat,
no need to understand
or define this task at hand.
She is a bitter body, that ocean of my dreams;
moving water with my feet.