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look at all these bodies:
tanned and taught
white and burned, flabby
and loose. young and old
fresh and faded- carrying
us in and out of the sea.
stuffed with food and drink
only to shit it out to start again.
flexing, sucking in, and pushing out.

having washed the salt from his hair
a quiet one sings a familiar song at home,
whispering over inaudible chords:
flyin' mother nature's silver seed
to a new home in the sun.

satisfaction was never
meant to be so byzantine.
folding ourselves inside out  
hoping that maybe the inside
feels more comfortable
on the outside. and these
rest ready husks rejuvenate
closer to the heart
and other vital organs.