Fish Swim North

I find myself hovering between dreams and heartaches.

i find my feet walking into wet grass,
into wet sand,
into cold ocean waters
and my hands, feeling air, air, air


my eyes see the ocean below,
they see the seaweed moving with the currents,
they see the sand churning with the tides,
and the murky blues turn into deep greens
as depth becomes a factor;
which is measured also by pressure

thousands of pounds of water existing above me

similar to when you would lie on top of me
and
my feet would feel wet and clammy,
and
my lungs would feel less capable,
and
my heart would feel more open.

but my emotional connection between you
and the ocean

are very different.