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Disembowelment
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Cerulean Transcience Of All My Imagined Shores
all is calm, all is quiescent - the colour magenta, the
afternoon breeze finds its way into my soul, as I sit there and enhance
the tranquility, the
solace of the sensory magic,
irreplaceable nirvana, my body feels the effect of blood-letting, the
winds brought in from
the south coast replace such
drainful inhabitance, my eyelids voluntarily close as the blue horizon
line takes shape,
stretching out far beyond the
sun, the sound of hte blue, an eternity of complete aquiescence, I
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cannot move, nor do I
need to, for it is enough to lie
on the cliff and become entrapped in a world of escapism and peace,
cerulean transcience of
all my imagined shores,
a bird of the ocean perches before me and lets out a shriek which
transcends me back, back
to where I write, and the
calm breeze continues to enter my perhipheral
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