Everything All at Once (My Self as Ocean)
What matters of ocean is that it contains—caverns of ship carcass,
pissing kids, the whole night etched like an atlas on its surface. This
is what I want.
                         I want to keep the past like a pearl on my tongue,
to inherit the salt in my skin. I want to learn how horizon can curve
back into itself so I can say what ocean says of wreckage:
                                                                                             Dive into 
my chest, stay as long as you can breathe, chart this hull of bones.
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