by Smokey Farris
I had visions while I was dreaming.
Running soul sequences and failing to translate.
I was on the beach and realizing the waves.
The tide was rising so fast.
It was infinite down to the detail of disinfinity.
The disinfinite sand and self concious surface.
The texture was that of a page in a book.
The fractal patterns on drainage through the sand.
Realising stars inumerable to the dream.
The waves came and went and I was raving about infinity.
They rush you and swallow you.
All the bubbles and light refraction through the blue sea.
The power and forceÂ of a tidal moon.
The dramatic crutch of bird feet and vision stance.
Ambiotic in freedom to be consumed by the sea.
The touch of the ocean feels like water,
but feels like the ocean, and it feels like the spirit.