Replete with silence
mistaken for taken sides
an escape artist
i’ve mastered the illusion of being here
with my hands bound i drown
sinking into a sea of misery
escaping from reality.
seagulls’ echoed cries of agony and
hunger pierce the surface
of this mirrored illusion. refractions of
sparkling lights and distorted fantasies
dance like idyllic reruns on a liquid screen.
filled with conflict and struggle
i look for distractions in actions
-typical American response really-
there’s always something out there,
to make it all better again.
i transform the object into what i need,
simultaneously the object transforms me
again and again.
this sinking does not have a sinking feeling
in the vastness of expanse i close my eyes
it feels like a primordial womb
a viscid mix: sediment and water
walls of feathery pink tissue undulate
purple fingerling tendrils caress me
they are and are not my body
heartbeats and pressure builds
compressing coralline ribs
split fragments pierce lungs
forgotten -what was i escaping?
somewhere in between
reverberations and nothingness,
swallowed in the abyss
where even a thousand buddhas couldn’t
hear my song,
bottomless shadows fill the sea
singing back into infinity
this void holds no sound
i’m bound to repetition.