Sixty Two

Which ocean are we in now? Coral and silt say a good one. Our brief lives at the speed of sound underwater, from shark and whale, being their song, their anger, pulsing through neptune's blood until diluted. We love by hitting the harmonies between attack and surrender. I lost most of myself ping-ponging off deep chasm walls, and my last note of you was a shiver rising to the surface, the light.