seaweed

Every nerve in my body is exploding with the most electric of feelings—head rush—figurative sparks are flying. I’m left numb and in bliss. My body totally washed out. I float, happily hung up in the air. I think of undulating reeds suspended at the bottom of the ocean, waving and rippling, stretching to the waters surface. I am seaweed. I float. I flow. I’m suddenly severed from my roots. My tethers detached, I soar straight towards the glowing sky. I fly. I’m high…

I cut through water like its frozen air and I’m the thawing southern winds. I’m closer to the surface now. I’m screaming storm winds unleashed in the calm. I’m splitting the doldrums, like the ringing in my ears is splitting my eardrums. I’m about to break the barrier. Tension is now increasing—pressure is still decreasing. I’m pulled through a thin layer of glass. It shatters chaotically on impact. Broken glass continues through the air—momentum. I’m falling—gravity.

I’m on my back, lying in hot dry sand. The sun overwhelms me. I shrink in its presence. I am your dilating pupil—the sun, your optometrist with a high-powered flashlight probing your eyeball. No longer high, I continue to dry—out of my mind, I shrink further, until I am nothing but a lackluster bit of washed up coral. What was once alive and nutritious is now a cut up coconut, nothing left but the husk.