Thermocline


You speak to me in soothing tones

of hospital green. Flat, calm words

to draw me away from ocean depths.


Hold me at the thin, warm layer.

Poised in thermocline, weed-drag limbs

slip saline cuffs, bloodbeat throb

echoes sandpack waves.

Senses flash on and off and on again.


The world returns – the beach,

the wind, the water, your voice:

And breathe. And breathe.


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