I feel the cold stone ‘neath my toes,
and I feel I exist outside of me,
on the surface of this body they’ll label
“Lydia” and point to once I’m dead.
My eyes close. I stare at my eyelids,
and now I feel I’m inside of me-
Oh help! Please someone,
get me out!
I inside and outside of me…
Is me my body? Then who I am?
Me might be nothing, for that’s what I see
every single time I blink.
I open my eyes and see that my toes
top a frigid, smooth stone
that floats in the middle
of a rising, swelling ocean.
I clench my eyes, trying to crawl right back
inside myself, and I wonder,
where did this rock come from?
And where is it going?
I ask, trying to figure out
if where I am is good.
Refusing to answer, you open my eyes,
finish my blink, and sit me down,
my thigh on the stone,
my toes dangling in the water.
And I still don’t remember where this rock came from,
and I still can’t tell where it’s floating to,
but here and now,
the sea breeze smells like salt.