Light Flikers

Light flickers from below, the patterns of green wine bottles plays under the water. Touching it, its not water, but stone, frozen rock formed in swirling movements.  Then the mass moves.  Slowly, pausing before a rush takes hold and from the rock an arm is seen, breaking free into the air, stretching.  My eyes are captured by a leg up to the right, a torso to the left, and then I cant keep track of the body parts; they have become humans, kneeling and stretching up to me.  I look into their faces, the ivory of eyes against emerald, ruby against teeth.  Have they always been moving, so slowly my eyes could not see their existence?  Now that I have seen their grasping hands, their laughing tongues will I sleep again?  I try, rolling over to the other side of the bed where your not, your absence bring such images to my brain.