Breadcrumb #379


He stood knee deep in the pool, uncomfortably. The blue water rippled around him as he kept his body still. The sun was strong though there were a few clouds in the sky. He wished it had been darker.

    Internally he fussed over the twinkles and glints of the sun’s reflection on the water, which he felt and saw bounce off and on him. How one might feel more comfortable making love in the dark than with the lights on, he was ashamed of himself as he stood in this bizarro spotlight.

    He wanted to wade out and feel his stomach quake as the water splashed against it. He wanted to feel his limbs become buoyant as he went deeper. He wanted to submerge himself, to feel the cool heavy envelope him, he wanted to it to cover him like a blanket and hide him.

He wanted to feel his limbs become buoyant as he went deeper.

    He gazed out again across the pool at that white light sprinkled on the surface. He watched the sparkles skip and bounce, and he watched them change to grey and then quickly change to black.

    The black light breathed and mutated. His eyes flittered as the black grew antennae and legs, and crawled; like water droplets on a window migrating toward each other, the black light gathered throughout the water.

    The swarm clustered around him and hovered like a cloud. The mass began to hum and buzz. He stood knee deep in the pool, uncomfortably.

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Breadcrumb #361


& I suppose it better to gulp
uncertainty     cradle nervousness
                                  than to drown in indifference

  I mean      what is safe            is it
                             any           more    than crags
                   comforting soles
        before the taken leap

 or corroding crass
   once curdled in ignorance, now
        no longer rancid? The choice frothing catalytic
an emulsion of ennui at the cliff bottom.

   the thesis of swimming:     taming limbs into choosing action
the subliminal unchaining
caressing we into a rippled wave
cupped into singular chain
           events, swim into themselves
meet above surface, remove tension
from choices pooling between us

become a matter of difference
  subtract vacant states
blend phases until they bind us
   into one   fluid substance.

Our vessels, a wet parchment      paralleled as solidified breath

Our map,  found    drifting in    undulation

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