They swing up in silent lifts
through the bottle barge.
Air bubbles in the morning,
close to my open-eyed sleeping.
Aquarium, and the breath without fish.
is life, What do you think?
an air bubble, which rises?
I hear the little gooey sound,
look around for you.
And then I remember: you are of it
in a hot air balloon.
How bubbly must your life be right now.
So I get ready for the message in a bottle.
I'm drinking and still looking for a message.
Most suitable for all seas.
And for the dry soil, where i maybe
wait a hundred years, that someone me
finds. “Hello I escaped a nice bedcupoard in a nice sleep chamber. You can write me new: yours Blubber.”