The ocean folds. Beautifully. A boat rows by. We swim and dive. There, around the corner, water flows down by a meadow, down a fountain, down the stairs where I am waiting. Suddenly deep under the ocean something brushes my shoulder.
A tempest strikes my veins, flashes splash themselves into mushrooms, and sea’s rocky surface reflects it all. The ocean folds. Foams. Knows. We dance and dance on the ocean floor. Frothing foam into a crown that lays easy on the crashing waves above us.