subaquatic fantasy

I slip beneath the water's shining surface
with eyes wide open
and behold a quiet new world,
a blue-painted heaven.
I speechless breathe out bubbles
and watch the pearls of my lungs
dash toward the clouds
in an upward avalanche of rubble.

Everything else moves slower here,
a peaceful place more dense than air.
Sounds are muffled and strange,
somewhere between liquid and frozen,
as the sunny, bustling world above
blends into a blue oblivion.

I wish I were part fish,
so I could lounge at the bottom for hours.
I imagine a tea party underwater.
All my friends are there
with tiny cups and plates and cakes
and not a single worry or care.

But then my wriggling toes remind me
I am all-human and no fin.
Two urgent lungs tug me back to the top
(again and again and again)
I keep on fighting with my flesh,
dipping my lonely face
into the pool palace.

I am its blue princess,
unblinking ascending a spiral staircase,
building in my mind a chlorine castle
where I can dwell,
without a single worry or wall.

All my friends are there
with the same pearly breath,
a whole colony of oysters
flirting with death.
I may have imagined them up too,
but what does it matter
when everything is blue?