The sea is liquid air

To me the sea is home. The course of the foam when I choose the corridor that runs along the abyss. Where I come from, where I am, where I will go. For me the sea is liquid air. To breathe with full sips of apnea. To me the sea is silence that makes castles in mid-air in depth. To me the sea is the vertigo of solitude every time I look down.

To me the sea is the music of memory. Of deaf ears in the world outside, while I return covered with amnios. For me the sea is a moment of peace. It flows, rises, stays still. He moves, motionless. To me the sea is the sweet strength of sperm whales that fly in the blue of the salt air. For me the sea is the unknown life that hides in the forests of Posidonia. To me, the sea is fluid in which the moment and the cosmos is imprinted. To me the sea is the freedom of my mind. Listening to mute and deep cries after gulps of gloomy air to return to mirror myself in the abyss and look at it without a mask, with open eyes. To me the sea is the collective self to be discovered. The ancient eroticism that joins instinct by fixing a powerful and wonderful bond. To me the sea is the world enclosed within me and comes to life with my arrival.