I Went Into The Sail

i went into the sail of my ship
to see if there was anything
inside

i scaled the mast
across flat contours that glistened in the sunset
where the peaks and valleys were but
incriptions of time

then i stretched myself thin
and like a film of paint
smeared myself
across the canvas

i found out
that even at the scale of oceans
the view from above is very much unalike
the view from the deck

crashing waves seem less frightening
like choreographed theatrics
but the swaying hurt
and i was always falling

i felt the weight
not on my shoulders
but upon my entire being
i become the medium

i was whipped on my back
giant flat lashes
but the space before me was always inviting
(or was it the other way round?)

i become the medium
the boundary that is never breached
solid and yet
forever in flux

i see the future
i see the past
and in the x axis i become infinitely small

and yet i am majestic
i am the crown
the deck below me disappears
into the rippling surface

while the ship cuts into the ocean like a knife
i slice into the wind
no matter how floundering i may be
without

and then i discover
that what shapes us
isn't our skin
but those other, less visible things

like hope.
and dreams.