The Perfect Measure

I want to sit on the beach where,

in my memory, the ocean

meets the land -

to feel the water rush in

heart beats over my thighs

as I sit facing shore; sun and waves

beating upon my back.



Then I want to lie down

to sleep where in water I'm submerged

and free fall into nothing.



Let the currents carry my body

writhing and tumbling in underwater winds.

Let darkened skies carry what's left of thought

and lucid illumination guide my feet.



I want true freedom;

to be the measure

unbound by the hourglass

as none know what time is left.



Yet here I sit

perpetually falling, behind

the glass.



I will never know why they even try -

their choreography far less beautiful than His.

In attempt for the perfect measure

all they capture is me.