What part of you floats above the sealine for everyone to see? It is a conscious choice. Some, proud as peacocks, rise high like floating Everest, a shining city on a hill for all to see. Others show nothing, a blank slate conforming to a blank stare. Words pulled from mouths, eyes to the floor, lost inside shadowselves.
Extremes, each impenetrable. A maze inside a void wrapped inside of isolation, but in the middle of life, a murky grey people float about. Signals and noise, morse code to The Carpathia, a speeding ship comes in the night. Seen.
The iceberg.
The part below the water attracts the mind.
The part above the water attracts the eye.
The part below the water is the intersection of heart and soul.
The part above the water is the vanity and the pride.
Symbiotic. You cannot have the iceberg above the water without the iceberg below. You cannot have an iceberg below the water without a peak above.
Seen. To be seen. How were you seen? You showed nothing yet the ship knew the ice mass below. Radar scans above, sonar pings below, but that was not it. Eyes found you. Eyes, see you.
What do you seek, what have you found? If not love, if not romance, what? If not depth, if not purity, what?
“Seen. To see and be seen.” That is all I hear. “To see me, to see you.”
I see what you show the world. Everything. Nothing.
I seek what you only show me. What only my eyes and ears will know.
Infinity. Madness. Umami, the fifth taste.
Exotic.
Authentic. Organic. Erotic
Moving in silence. Will you signal or will we pass in the night?
Cathartic, regardless.