Long ago when all things were still meek, the ocean came to me and asked to be filled with despair so deep. From waters that ran clear into
heavy blues then
black.
Then, despite all its depth and enigma, the ocean began to brood on its emptiness and solitude.
O, to be the biggest, the greatest, and by far the most hollow, once more only filled with want.
YOU ARE READING
in the memory of the earth
Poetrythe earth remembers all that has come to pass and now you will know too
