The Other shore

Scrapping it off my soul.
Place the razor, safely first.
Wring out the black. Lighten. Flow. Relax.
Cough. Once, twice. Let the black smoke drift away.
The light is where you shall bathe.
Imprints and sins dig deep like barnacles and sand crabs.
Burrowing for survival.
Yet the Buddhist in me does not wish to kill them.
Shake them off, strip them away. Let the mud and toxic blood defuse.
Transfuse and melt beyond tomorrow.
Scrubbing my halo.
Dusting off my wings.
Bring my happy back again. In beautiful Technicolor.
A cocktail of antibiotics, hope and acknowledgement accompany my humble pie.
The mirror facing, soul searching reason for change.
And Change we must.
The traveling, motioning blurring fight for tomorrow.
The face of you, as I swim to the ocean floor.

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