Sometimes I wonder why I do this, why I write. I guess it comes down to having a place to put it other than my head. Tonight I couldn't sleep, maybe the 78cent coffee, maybe the heat, maybe the incurable desire to be out, to be alone. I swam out until I couldn't hear the cars. Sea, just sea was my serenade. I floated there, feeling so irrelevant and insignificant under the expanse of dark water and sky, I let myself sink below the surface. Coolness filled me then, stillness, a deeper calm. The moon and the breeze worked together to push me in, I felt the gravel of rough sand caress my back, eyes closed to shrink that silliness of lights, noise and cement.
Hours past, lapping against the shore with my brother, the ocean.
I could be anywhere...
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