Wrist Deep

There is dark light
that lives in all of us.
We are saturated
with disgust, born
anew into filth.

We have little legs
that we use to try
to run. We cannot.
We are so simple.
We are disgusting

and so are you.
These are our fingers
wrapping the glass.
This is your mind
in a kerfuffle.

Every now and then
you think you can
escape. No. You cannot.
We are trapped,
in a dream within

a shell. We are pearls,
encumbered forever.
We are bright, beautiful,
rare. We are notes
unheard. We are circles.

We are sad, and so are you.
We have so much
within us. Where are we?
Over the edge of a cliff
there is the constant ocean.

Is that where we are?
Will you find me in the waves?
I am a note, a fret;
you are a pick. You pluck
me. I am lost in dissonance.

A man dives down. It is only
blue and dark all around him.
He picks an oyster from the group.
The oyster has within it a pearl.
You are the pearl. He is lucky.

And I am lost. I am the ocean.