The only noise I hear is the br steady sucking of my breath, br so loud it smothers sound. br The lifeline for my lungs br sends rafts of bubbles to the surface br into gleaming shafts of sun br like scatterings of spun glass. br br My ears relieve by cracking br when I descend, br weightless br as a piece of drifting thistledown. br Beneath the turquoise surface is a gloaming. br With a springy bounce I land on sand br in a brightly colored other world of br shapes, waving softly without hands. br br Caves of white lace filaments, br black, purple, chartreuse fans, br complex coral plates, br beckon me. A Moray eel, br green as a gherkin, exposes br needle teeth from his protective lair; br “touch me not”, his fierce mouth shouts, br while an octopus, his neighbor, br mottles red as if allergic to my stare. br br Spiral cones called Christmas Trees br decorate a stately coral, br swiftly suck in if I poke them, br timidly peek out again br after I drop deep down a wall, br encountering a broad Elephant Ear, br a clinging colossal mushroom. br Eyes wide, fins gently moving, br I want to stay suspended br in my underwater home. br The sea brings out the fish in me, br or surely, br the anenome.