I stood at the cold cliff and looked
into the even colder sea. The sea takes its name
because ocean spreads itself too vast,
too wide, and far too deep,
and the foam that frosts the tips of the waves
curve, see. See how it laps and strokes at the mouth
of each stone cave. The stone wears away
and bears the cut of the water with a smile.
(They cut each other with a smile.) Listen to that voice.
So easily does it curve into a circle,
fork itself like lightning, become ocean.
I breathe in the saltladen sky and wonder
if I could drown in fog
alone, or if only the sea would.
The sky, dark
as a purpling bruise
that refuses to heal.
One red eye
is just an ocean
without a heart.
Will you swallow us, it asks of me,
will you let us consume you?
I breathe in the fog
and contemplate the answer. Embrace me.
I want to see you as ocean.
Yes, it sighs, yes, we will show you.
Come into our waves. Walk into us
And do not blame your lungs for failing you.
Could you in your trembling hands carry
air like smoke, and so heavy?