Flounder.

I’ve been circling the moldy, plankton encrusted bottom layers of life; feeding off of the slowly sinking debris that once littered the surface layers: the leftovers of a long-ago feast that I attended up there.

My vision has adapted to the murk; my breathing has adjusted to the oxygen depletion of dangerous depths and harrowing heights; my skin has settled into the wrinkled prune-esqueness of an over-long bubble bath; my hair now growing shafts of seaweed and tangly kelp in place of it’s natural fibers.

I’m a flounder, living with a great white shark who is lazy with a eating disorder; I am stuck in the suction of his hefty submerged wake; I am seemingly happy to gobble up the chunks of shit that fall from the sides of his razor sharp bite as he chews incessantly; I am his shadow down here.

10 thoughts on “Flounder.

  1. As long as you are his shadow and not his lunch…………………………. you OK?

  2. Hey girl, long time no words.
    Starting to think you didn’t like us no more.
    As for the shark?
    The thing I like about them is they have to keep moving to live,
    As for it’s shadow?
    It will soon pass leaving you unharmed and beautifully camouflaged as only nature can do.

    • You have the keen ability to become a poet when it suits your means of communication. I like that about you.
      Thank you for the supportive words, Paul. Much love to you and yours. XO

      • Nice of you to say that girl.
        Except I ain’t non poet and the spell check runs red hot on anything more than ten words. Drives SWMBO mad does that but she is the brains for both of us.
        Keep safe, AND XO goes back 2 yer from us both.

  3. Wordidge awards a plenty
    Major cool write, I am in awe

  4. Simon says:

    Hi ya, you’re still writing great things. Hope you’re well 🙂