Boating silently
and leaving behind no ripples
in the reflecting water
that is parched for blue,
I abandon myself to the sky.

The thin line
of bleached horizon
becomes my spinal cord
and I come awake.

Above
pours a speckled sun
with lobes of lung
breathing
in and out,
green and red
splintering a rain
of heat and vapour
into the sky.

Streaks of
chalked yellow come away
in spirited dances
and I am confused.

I cannot say when
the rain becomes the sun
and the sun
becomes the rain.
I cannot say
where the
beige nothingness
stops
to meet the bleached white.