A Fabric Hurricane

02.09.16 Drowned in waves of cotton, I rest my body. Shut eyes, two sealed oysters. A branch of sargassum, torn out by the shore. Swallowing wrinkles of bathypelagic decadence. Yet the mind remains adrift; floating on a raft amidst the silky currents of the mattress, that is the sea bed. Sleepless is the night, a…