The Right Touch
My ocean eyes are above the water. I can finally see each lime light reflecting from the weathered pier. My sinuses clear and I am breathing better than I have in years. Technicolor glow sticks electrify my veins. Time creates second hands out of falling stars reflecting over the sea. Space begs to spark all of my wildest dreams. Waves fail to push me back out into nothingness as the wind blows my neon sail closer to shore.
All because you took my bony hand into your calloused palm.