Down by the Shore

So here I am, trapped. The fish look different through my waterlogged eyes, and the coral. My vision has assumed a submarine perception, I clearly distinguish the patches of sun reflecting against he coarse patterns of the rock pool. The incoming tide rocks me back and forth, singing its aquamarine lullaby to me; my clothing, my scarf, my entire body follow the rhythm of every gentle wave rippling towards the shore. My hair is but a tangled mane of red seaweed.
I am no longer me; with each passing day I am turning inexorably, into an aquatic creature. This metamorphosis brings me in touch with a sub-world, the colours and rhythms of which remain yet unknown to me. Funny that I should discover this plentiful beauty now that I can no longer claim it; now that it has manifested itself to my amphibian glare, I can no longer hold it.
Soon I shall be gone, dissolved bit by bit into this endless seascape. Already I feel little fish nibbling at my ankles. That's not so bad. After all, I could not have asked for a better resting place.