Rich blues and pure whites smoothly slip past my eyes.
These eyes which are heavy and sleep laden seem like two metallic ball bearings pushing down into my skull, threatening the sponge soaked brain tissue within.
As I lay with my back against the deck of the boat waiting for the net to fill once more with fish. My eyes lazily track patterns the mast makes as it impotently throws wild punches at the sky.
Somewhere in the distance a glorious existence awaits, but for now white capped waves treat my inner ear to a symphony of soothing embryonic motion.
Rich blues and pure whites smoothly slip past my eyes and reflect the joy I feel towards the ocean.
