all things

My sea

The way I see it

Is my history

Deep, deep, dark

And unknown

With the alienest fauna

And megafauna

And worse!

Tiny, briny things

Spindly and krill-like

Do I like that I'm like them?

as if that matters

Some day my flailing arms,

That thrash me along, against

Tidal and vorpal forces

Like coral (and the glass we left there)

Will tire of their toil

And I'll slip in, in and amongst

My ancestors, a relative unknown

Never having been spent

As fuel for the light

And we'll wait,

just wait

…

What quiet

What pressure.

What End.