Sinking, sailing, soaring fast; Dip, dive, upside down; (Let it roll off your tongue)

(pull, reach…pull, reach, breath…pull, reach…pull, reach, breath)the water slaps against the boat’s side, creating it’s own tempoone that defies the tempo in my head, yet it’s sound drives methe mist rising off the water begins to greet the new dayit is a blanket that I slide under, it comforts methe mist also magnifies the silence silence which roars in my head insisting I come here againcome here alone(pull, reach…pull, reach, breath…pull, reach…pull, reach, breath)the mist creeps up and around me enveloping me in a white cloudI can no longer see the oarlocks and my eyes are of no useI hear nothing beyond the water and voices in my headas these senses become useless others intensifythe taste and smell of salt in the thick airthe rough feel of the oars in my handsstraining and flexing against the wateryes, I’ll come again