The Sea

the sea

by Jared Simmonds

your clouds of volume surge

in, then out, of being;

soft ruptures

to an otherwise ubiquitous nothingness.

sentrying a vacant shoreline,

for years i’ve studied, callous as a surgeon,

to pry from churning depths the phantom element

which aggrandizes your totality.

your secrets,

a passage to madness:

anemones, serpents, so many thousand kilograms;

i no longer interpret,

but continue to listen.

you bellow a message bereft of language,

but a message nonetheless.

knowing this requires no philosophy.