A fleeting
impression of overwhelming tumult in the vespertine light, and then I
feel myself being lofted to the crest - no, I am the crest,
and upcast myself, exultant, to the underbelly of the empyrean,
crowning with delectation before tripping and tumbling down, pulled
at once skyward, forward, and deep beneath myself by my cryptodynamic
current. I, my multi-directional and greatly variegated self,
tossing emerald and sapphire reflections between waves and
forerunners, rush headlong into the silver beach before me. At the
appulse of intrepid water and intractable sand, something shatters,
and I disjoin from myself, feeling my freedom retract, flowing back
to the sea and leaving me to reflect the lavender sky with a lentor
born from brokenness. I feel emphatically bereft – reminded, by
the regular pulse of the waves over me, of my crippled nature. At a
loss, I cast brief streaks of light back to the setting sun, while
the sand I rest in creates flecks of gold to match the nitid
constellations. Down the beach – and I begin to feel the length
of the strand as I felt the miles of myself as I rushed in from the
sea – a man is singing, couched in the littoral as I am, his voice
casting back over the rhythmic bass of the crashing waves, following
the lilts of the current. Together, we combine to one consciousness
and drift above the current, trailing the waters as they pull back
into the heart of the sea, with oblivion as our polestar.