Cold against my cheek
they curl around my ears like vines
whispering sweetly

the soft scales of the seabed
resting on my toes
blocking, their pressure is calming

a limbless seaweed,
I am wading along the current,
thoughts swept away by the tide
unnoticed.

The sea is before me,
a looking glass into my soul
and somewhere in the great expanse of ocean
I can still feel it,
touching and clinging,
anchoring to any life it can see—

so I lay dumb,
the froth caressing me gently
whilst the sea moves me along
holding me, pulling me, leading me
towards oblivion.