Something's Fishy

We fish know the air is out there. We cannot live beyond the boundary of our breath. Each of us know our space. Beyond this place we are as we think, A wobble on the brink. Our voice the pin between the measure Of a wink and our final sleep. We fly as momentary glistening skin, Breeching the water we breathe, landing in scattered shells Upon each others beaches. We build electric bridges with synapses Between great gulps of pain, using our stories to tell ourselves a truth. Our attention like beacons, searching for what hearts can press upon. Like craggy rocks, we split the timbers of interrupted lives, Hoping the spray upon our face will soon awaken us.