I am free form,

my cells don’t properly connect,

according to the norm,

as if I’ve stretched to welcome ocean

but with it comes the blue

as if particles of broken lives

get beneath my paper skin,

abrasive, gritty,

at times bruising

walking on pebbles

 

and yet, this is coloured in

with collective dreams

and openings,

the bubbling up of waters

spilling in

and that moment of unrested calm,

I, tiny in unbroken, rippled azure

floating in the briny,

when I knew I was part of One

I am.

 

Antonia Sara Zenkevitch

 

Part of Freeform Fridays – words of the week: blue, gritty & calm