Will currents draw you toward open sea,
to be re-formed, reclaimed, or wiped clean?
Or might this gentle floating become a kind of spell,
the next invocation not spoken in words,
but carried through sound.
Already, you are further than those blurred edges were.
Suspended between sleep and waking,
between sea and shore,
you drift gently—
further than you might normally allow.
Vestiges of memory buoy you
on this ocean of sound.