puncture.
holes.
chords of patterned holes
patterns raise to a pitch and we one riding slipping shining down a
wave- we gargle involuntary sea water as it begins to strum-sex our
vocal chords and we come to breathe that water. slowly paddling, fins
begin to function swimming rhythmic attempts to traverse noises inhaled,
sonic shit digested pumped into the veins. seaweed tickles our dorsal
fins, we become-sea-creature down to the depths . we tribble tremble
push across the ocean floor with thrusts of underwater gas entrusting,
pushing us toward the surface only followed by a sinking celebration of
the ocean floor- pulsing pulling life along in an aporia of crushing
crescendos.
in moments of trembling we fish are born and fall away.
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