I'm dry, even though I stand in the sea,
Roughly where jaws had its first victim,
Land in sight, sky above, there's the sea and then there's me.
I'm dry, and frightened too,
But when goosebumps bloom the water is pushed a millimetre away.
I've tried, before you ask, walking to the shore
But the water tries to play wave for my toed surfboard like cool slippers for naked feet.
So I return to my dry corner in fear of flooding all land.
And hence the corner is no different from a house,
With closed windows that have vertical bars of a greyish tint,
Risen from white and not yet black.
Seeming dark and light during the night
And light and dark during day
For the grey is adept at adapting,
Like I have to, now, not to solitude but away from it.
I touch the water and it blankets me through an eternal dreamless night.
~Ajay
18/3/18
