Inversion

Water flew, it was above my head waving or flapping or did it row? The boat was a situation adrift inside a cockleshell. I recall the moon vividly for it was not there. Dreams fold inwards, invert and leach behind shuttered lids. Searchlight-sight turns to floodlight, the peripheral is everywhere. Awareness rises to the top rocking back and forth heart-waves - tolling like a sea tossed buoy, Sometimes, mid-deep in flight you find a paddle, sometimes you don't.