waterline

I'm always looking through this glowing periscope, looking out at things that don't have to worry about being watertight. I'm looking through a fog of disinformation, finding a little patch of clarity here or there that reads "the ocean is dark for a reason." It says, "don't forget how to breathe." Somebody scribbled "we love you more than you hate yourself," drew stick figures of open arms, drew a toothy smile.

I could build this periscope long enough to hit the bottom of the Mariana Trench, thirty six thousand feet of mirrors and steel, but I'm just thinking about going for a swim up there at the surface instead, leaving the questions for God and following these air bubbles right through the waterline, right into that sky I was born to breathe.