Dive

Just the way you made your way out of your mother’s womb, head first, arms next, legs last.
If the water was the sky and the air was the sea, which way is upside-down?
While she fades away into the dark ashy blue of light inversion.

The world is too dense and too suffocating, I know.
A slight brush might murkily cloud the seas.
So this is an escape, a flight—
A single eye watches me float.