It's as if the ocean, deep and wide, its unfathomable fathoms, swallowed me and I acclimated to the eels. I did not ask for it - their jolt like medicine, clearing the eyes. In the weightless interims, the shocking pauses, they decorate my fingers, my biceps, my thighs, their jaundiced bejeweled eyes. Then - electric ecstasy of light! - right now, now, just now, my insides are, there!, no, longer, blind. Trembling body, you are precious especially around the edges of pain. Send pulses out and out and I know I have now, now, touched them back, snakes of the dark, over their backs, my own, my, tremorous water, the container which makes us one, they and I, to who does what belong -
a finger, a bicep, a thigh
The senses are dead. Something about my work goes here.