There you are, in trees, moons and seas. I choose to see where you have gone and will come see you one day where skies are blue and we will play like children do. None of the dirt weighing us down like here but there I believe it must differ from the walls that stood between us even though blood held us together as we weathered storms and dove the depths of a sea black, blue and green. The lower we went colors dissipated but participated in our own choosing. Only compressed air could bring the buoyancy needed to surface again. Self-medicated we resuscitated dead minds hoping for truth but often found nothing more than distant shores smiling from the horizon hiding a sunken sun. Darkness rising in the east you headed south toward I-10. How did we get there so suddenly out of the protective cover of rolling waves and water? Far from any way to release and dive deep into weightless peace, sea life forming flaming walls of light bending brilliantly all around us. I could see, still see and will always see your smile around the regulator held between those teeth that were broken to bits when you pulled on your mask, turned your back to the water and fell, one last time, into the sea.
I wish I could know, but will always hope you didn’t feel a thing.