54 (disco version)

Jumping from the platform

into the dusted sand

far below the edge of the concrete cliff,

a crevice of camel colored creases.

I lie here a jumbled mess,

a decomposed abstraction,

seemingly in pieces.

But as my eyes move in moments

slowly towards the water,

the expanse of ocean,

ahead of me,

I feel the weaving of my skin

twisting, tinging, tip-toeing together,

tiny portraits of myself transmogrifying,

alchemized and microscopic.

Who knew a hand or face could be so small.

And as my skin stretches and connects,

the wind soothing the heat of the minuscule contractions,

I grow momentarily into.

You take your car, I'll take my board

Back home all I can think about is getting to the beach. To feel the sand in my feet, the sun on my face, and the smell of salt in my nose. I didn't get to the beach as much as I had planned on this last trip, but on my quick visit to the Birch Aquarium I did pick up this free magazine called Ocean, which brought me back to my beach bums days of purely sun and surf. It turned out to be quite a fun find. Here are some pictures: