Adrift, Again
By heinzs
Adrift, Again Giant kelp entwines me ~ like a floating sea otter ~ an oyster on my chest and a rock with which to crack it open. There is nothing but silence in the bay. No breeze stirs the waters, yet the surface heaves and swells as if breathing with a life of its own. I break the silence with the tap-tap-tap rhythm, rock against shell, shell against chest. Will it crack? Will there be a pearl? I reside within a shell of my own creation. The rock seeks my attention with its incessant tap-tap-tap. Who wields this irritating instrument? Slowly I feel myself pried open... exposed... naked and unprotected. There is no place to hide, no shelter from scrutiny. I cower desolately in the corner, the light much too bright and glaring. Thus psychoanalysis seeks to break through hardened defenses, baring the tormented psyche in a desperate attempt to make logical contact. I wish to retreat to my gently rocking bay, safely tangled and afloat. Locked within myself, unavailable, impervious to hurt, the unbearable pain of waking cannot then touch my soul. Am I the dreamer, or the dreams? Nothing at all is as it seems. 01-18-2002 Written January 18th, 2002 © on Jan 18 2002 10:21 AM PST, Heinz Scheuenstuhl 0 • 1
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"Adrift, Again..."