Some Poetic Studio I Wrote 5 Years Ago

 

I close my eyes and breathe in slowly, filling my lungs with the lingering scent of the ocean air. I can taste the salt on my tongue, reminding me of the taste of the tears that roll down my cheeks and into the corners of my mouth when I am feeling wretched from a series of unfortunate events. But today, I feel the opposite. I feel serenity as I listen to the symphonic sound of the ocean. I try to imagine myself floating in the vast, unknown world of the big blue pool that covers most of the world that I live in. How could one travel the world without befriending the ocean? I breathe out. Overhead, seagulls make lame jokes at each other, or maybe at us. The waves break along the shoreline, right in front of where we are standing. I feel a smile spread across my face as I wriggle my toes, and suddenly all serenity is washed from my body quicker than rain washes away a child’s chalk drawing on a stormy summer afternoon. I want to leap and yell and run down the coast until I cannot go further. I breathe in. My eyes flutter open and the humidity settles on my eyelashes. My eyes focus steadily into the deep abyss, savoring the incompressible creation of Poseidon. I breathe out. The breeze picks up and the fuzzy clouds float lazily through the contrasting baby blue sky as my dirty blonde hair whips in my face. I breathe in. His kind coffee colored eyes with hazel speckles peer down at me. I could see the individual grains of white sand settling on his thick chestnut hair that had been ruffled from the wind. His brow moves upwards and seems to laugh at me. He wrinkles his freckled nose and sticks his tongue out. I feel his presence growing stronger than sea god who controls the massive blue realm in front of me. His fingers interlaced with mine and I breathe out. I breathe out all worries and turned my head back to the horizon. We breathe in. Off in the distance, we watch a small sailboat with a red mast gently move across the water in the opposite direction that I would be going if I owned that boat. It was moving towards the tiny, familiar rectangles we knew were part of the city we came from. A busy, too loud, too crowded kind of place. But here, we breathe out and relish to the busyness of nature, which to us may seem like pure nothingness, but that doesn’t matter to us. Humans think too much to understand the basic flow of life. Breathe in. We don’t want to leave. Breathe out. We don’t ever have to. Just keep hitting replay on this memory… Breathe in. Breathe out.

[fin] - jam