A curtain of light
pours from the top
of the screen.
Everything
is illuminated
before it dissolves.
A thousand whispering voices
rise from beneath us.
blues, blacks, purples,
sounds of the sea.
Dark wood
slowly pushes through frame.
Ship
is an
afterthought.
Oh, and there’s fog.
Now we are on the ship
crowded within it.
Somewhere
beneath the waves
deep in volcanic caves
we hear a crystal voice
calling our names.
I am but one of them
huddled amongst the men.
I am a blood red pen.
I am this page.