I drop straight down
reminiscent of a falling feline.
The sky is silver
and the water midnight.
They wait for me,
ever so gracefully.
Rehearsing their dance,
bellowing vibrations.
Fragments of pink
begin to drink the drowning silver.
The monstrous giants know I am here.
A few, not pleased with me.
I am terrified and in love.
I look up,
the pink is on fire and I begin to warm.
Their mystifying wings are my guillotine.
I feel the earth inside of me,
craving the metamorphosis
riding each midnight wave.
They are moving like the sun,
Singing lullabies like summer crickets back home.
I grab a fin
and as my mind configures the premonition of nature, the pink doesn’t exist.
She pulls me out
wearing a white t shirt with paint splat.

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Copyright roy/minden pictures.

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