Summer of Code

Bubbles rise up beside me, 
and the lips of a clownfish pucker between my eyes.
He mocks me,
And then runs back to his anemone.

Oh, sure, he's used to this.
The deep water is his home.
His gills pull oxygen from fluid,
but I am drowning alone.

The sharks circle a short distance away.
When I give up, they'll feast on my bones.
They know I have no life boat,
They know no rescue comes.

The bubbles shiver and float to the surface.
I shiver and despair.
A storm may rage above us,
but it will not mat my hair

for I am sinking,
in the deep blue green
to deeper depths of thinking, 
to a place the rain has not seen.