Obsession

My bones make a funny noise like my teeth used to do. With my old and tired arms i continue to row stroke after stroke i am a living muscle. The sea is dark underneath and a scarlet voice calls me. I can not stop. I continue to roam and my arms become made of wood as they are the roams themselfs. Gently the cold and oily water starts crawling under my skin in a freeze thaw that won't make me stop. Stroke after stroke i'm a living muscle.