How Does it Feel?

You could say there is

an ocean inside of me.

From the outside I am

dry, so dry

like hardened clay but inside,

I wax and turn on a tidal pull.

A gentle current that spins and

spins.

I carry a body of

blue water inside.

The colour murky and deep as ink.

At night, one thousand prisms of ocean move

in slow circles.

A bulging shadow-wave

that rolls in gelid abstraction.

I watch cool bubbles of

water migrate through the air.

Blue jellyfish that

sting to touch,

swallow them whole

to stir the waters inside.

I carry my ocean quietly and

without burden. You wouldn't

notice.

Although occasionally

the weight in me,

so heavy it's hard to breathe sometimes.