Pisces

I am love, more than lost. I am more artist, than living person. I will not give you the look in my eye, Nor the eye of the storm. Or any other mechanical thought That beams from the corners of my mouth. It is the world, Changing like the weather Weaving storms into words And my voice into clarity. It pools just like this: Furious and deep, behind the rumination of my eyes. I am half fish in this world, more lost in the sea, than whole in your arms. Your sideways glance Into the well, Reminds me of distances I swim to be heard.