fading sigh

I lie on this desert
right next to the ocean
roots are growing from my soles
into the water
I spread like an old mangrove
no tsunami could crush me down.
the view on my porch is peerless
I sit on it
and look at myself mixing up with the ocean.
slide,
slide into my chamber of torture
I have my nails sharp
and my tongue dressed in venom
we could develop a particular case
of the stocklom syndrome.
we could exchange parts.
let's take this silence
and throw it on the others lips and thoughts.
break me into pieces
sail the ocean for a while and fight the sea dragons
and than come back
into this panoramic post-card I am,
remove the dust and the scratches
and
renew my skin.
I'll grow basil,
oregano,
tarragon
and marijuana
right on the sand in front of my house.
let their scent lead us
to the soul kitchen
where we'll end up
decomposing into each others flavors
so slide,
slide into my chamber of tortures
where no one else
has ever entered.