Swimming is sleeping in a dream
inundated by a silence in between.
Spreading to the edges, thinking
is leveled out. Finale in the breathing.
Slowly, rhythmically, water is dissolving
the grease tucked in my tired skin.
Arises, from the turn and repetition,
the Sense, to the beginning of innocence.
Blinded by a translucent blueness
in order to see ever-clearly with
the ever-open eyes, the Consciousness
in its ever-pure, naked form. Rebirth.
Shoutout to yanxili