Currying freedom

Currying freedom

with shaky limbs,

running into me,

the foam,

from the deep blue,

pearls, starfish

and anemones,

giggle gingerly

as white jellyfish

float like Neptunes

beyond my reach.

I’m drowning,

liberating, freeing,

burying, sleeping,

cascading,

your hand is only

temporary refuge

who’d save me

when no one’s home

and the bright nightlight

would’ve burnt

until the morning

slowly featuring

my demise, within

a small aperture of your

blind eyes.

I’m alive, dying,

living, decaying,

in between

a lot of things, just

not a human being.

P.C. – Praveen Thotagamuwa on Unsplash

2 thoughts on “Currying freedom”

  1. I was hooked as soon as you made that sensory shift, right at the beginning, from ‘currying freedom’ to ‘…foam/ from the deep blue’.

    Liked by 2 people

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