Falling upward toward a glaze
of light rippling on the surface
rush of silence vast wind in my ears
shhh can you hear their whispers
through the walls vague music
in the sweep of water through the pipes
someone is dancing release the wheel
limbs flailing inefficient strokes
of an inexperienced swimmer
shimmering disc now nearer brighter
distorted sound a song of Sunday
morning bells drawing me
heart first back arched into
a searing burst of lucid afternoon
and soon I breathe
and soon I see
and the whispers are receding
and the music is silenced with a touch
(c) 2019, by Hannah Six
Image: PxHere
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