My hushed breath whispers to burlap sails on distant seas,

Wrenched from my teeth and thrown to the breeze like confetti,

In the flailing arms of cerulean waves;


Filling my cavities with the hollow sighs of whales

And the fluorescent scales of prehistoric behemoths,

Grasping at my lungs, hiding in my hallways;


My eyeballs held a loft like translucent marbles to the sun,

My life a tribute in the sea's shapeless hands,

My skin a soft child's blanket dragged through summer days and rain,

Pulled apart, fraying at the seams;


The lapping waves take everything and give nothing back,

They sit on the wings of manta rays drifting

Aimlessly as the dead sailors' handkerchiefs,

Seeping shadows on the backs of ageless leviathans;


The stars above me are modern forgeries to them,

reflections of whale sharks and long-gone beasts;

To them, I am a singular breath in the gills of life,

A blade of grass in the fields;


My existence is an opportunity,

An imposition,

An instant. 


And then it's gone. 

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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