When the sapphire waves brush this crystal beach,
Does the truth of my kaleidoscope vision become
The lifeblood of an entity I have never touched?

That horizon winks at me, perfect blue, perfect
Synchrony with the beating, beating frequency of
That droning hum in my stomach.

The sand in my toes, golden rays of sun beating
On the skin, is this the truth for which I have searched?
The pinnacle of me lies in the mathematics of each grain

Infinite numbers of little rivulets, water and tears falling
All at once, crashing with the waves; find me a formula for
The make up of this transient body, transient life.

Tell me the science of my life and I could never force
Any meaning into that cement-filled tomb of real
Empirical evidence is not strong enough for these waters.

One foot in the water and am I any less real?
If I sink to the bottom of that deathly ocean, the abyssal pit
How much different would that feel from this heavy consciousness?

The anchor weighing me to the deepest corridors of my
Every sensation—thoughts washing away, stirring in riptides
Boiling beneath that blazing sun; would you consider it passion?

Knees deep in the water, I point at that line where the falling sun
And the farthest island become one, I sink deeper; shoulders under the water
As those little crystals shatter around my warm skin.

The water tightens its grip around my neck as I
Surrender into that singular image of life; gaping for my
Final breath, pulling me into that deep, deep blue.

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Scout Boriga is a poet whose work blends confessional rawness with lyrical imagery. He continues to write from Manila, Philippines.