Motor boats creep by above as I look at the shimmering waves of the sun. I am blown away of the effect water can carry sounds waves. I feel as if the same effect that of airplanes ruin the wilderness experience on land as is the same for motor boats run by above me. And the fish still swim by the hundreds. Close upon inspection are other worlds and universes light by exotic color of bright tourquioses and bright red and blues and light blues and pinks and dark pinks, and dark reds and striped tourquiosed, blue, yellow movement and fish in the distance dance and eat dusty stars in the sea. I look upon the wall above me and see crevices like the ridges of my skin fanned by coral and brain coral and globular communities of fish sticking together with the current. I see light blue speckels of fish down below me like a christmas water bowl and blue confetti shaking. I see microscopic mountain ranges and little blue baby fish eyes hiding behind the tree like coral fanning out five feet. In the distance I see flashes of baracuda five feet in length schooling their own tails round and round and playing follow the leader. I wake up on the bed to find myself still rocking back and forth on the wave. I gaze into the eyes of an old fisherman cataract blue gray eyes from the sea. He is the sea. "Which direction is the current going today?" he asks a local friend fisherman in the water with his line looking for fish. "That way." We started at one spot and drift towards the other. I fly across the top of the coral wall looking down at Suzanne thirty feet below, arms outstretched, I am my own hovercraft. My breath and bubbles across my ear echoes the sound of my heartbeating when I was born. And I fly some more.