This is Water

The thickness of some things makes my heart race,
it calls upon my liquid nature and lets her loose
unbound
over sand and sky,
under your radar
and into the night we dream up.
The winds in me blow up a storm, a scream,
my body cavorting in pleasures which my mind filters in,
the heart not caring about the last time it ate, washed or took stock.
It is alive, and beating
for all of you,
for some of you,
for you.
Yelling my fanaticisms to each and every new recruit
on the thoroughfare,
raising myself and beating you all to death,
just so you take note, you are Alive.
My palpitations race, then to sleep,
and viscosity of our human circumstance,
is revealed, revoked, reveled
with every single word.
The water, it's warm today, mildly salty
a pale shade of green-blue
it softens my muscles
forces me into the feeling of floating without ground;
It has tiny, violent yellow shards of sun upon it,
and it is everything I will it to be.
I shout, because I know I am in this water...
do you?

M. Lucia