Body Surfing

We meet again,
my silvery, salty friend.
The cold, dark velvet
folds rolling in, leaning away from
the pink skies and tinged clouds of dusk,
gazing longingly toward the empty town.

And so it begins.

I throw caution to the sand,
my licking fear to the tolling wind.
I dive, I dive into the waves,
and I breath again.

The sea,
It teaches, pushing me away
with a curving green hand.
Leave things you don’t understand
alone, it says, the earth is where you belong.
I hear its words, but never believe them, for
It always twinkles so sadly when I rise from
the water like waking from an euphoric dream.

It drags me under, it makes me choke,
hard rocks, burning in my limbs.
Yet I am master of ocean taming.
Like poets of the pensive sigh.
To ride the waves is to truly fly.

For when I am lifted by a racing shore,
I forget that my mind should be marred
by memories worse than childish fears.
I could drift between land’s end and the horizon
playing with the glassy sea, for countless, countless years.