Beach

After a trip down to the beach at night.

Lies a box within a box
Sits a mind inside a mind
Stands a man contained

Walk with twilight to the left and keep the on the right,
For there is little to the right.
A pause to breathe and lie again,
Now twilight is above and we sink into the world,
Encased in grains, and the bars behind the eyes
Enclosed in supplication and the divine
The pause to breathe has left us choking
Smothered
Drowning
Trapped.

Obsessed with words
A web of infinitesimally small, intangible things
Twisted into the noose of conversation.
Possessed by lies
The fluid grains into which we sink
Conceived as the histories of our own creation.

Water upon the left and warm flickers towards the right
For there is little to the right
Twilight is behind and the dark is above
To stand, to step, to walk, to run
But now just to lie
In the cold, sodden left and the warm, barren right
For there is little to the right
Possibility to the left
A cold, sodden possibility
But now we lie
Obsessed
Silent
Caged