Unravel the ocean’s veiled skin,
a spectral hush between me and earth,
blue sinews clutching my limbs,
whispering weightless lies—
float, drift, pull—
further, further—
or drown.
The tide chants hymns of urgency,
promises carved in salt:
“arrive, achieve, or vanish.”
I claw towards the vanishing edge,
where breath and bone dissolve,
where the Fixx hums through vacant veins,
a beach of endings waiting,
waiting—
for me to reach.
BB Grey--musings 
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