A little, little grave. An obscure grave.
a few words

this will be another empty metaphor about

the ocean

waves and crashing sea salt water pouring slamming rocks

eroding, this

will be another useless narrative about

the ocean

lapping calm and soothing lull of

waves that snake across some shore but

I have never seen the ocean, that is solid truth

I can surmise what it might sound like from some

inland lakes and river currents

but my

metaphors are groundless, sealess you might say, and frankly

I’d rather not talk about it, but

I can’t escape that taunting

imagery that’s

haunting me to

let it free I’ll have to just indulge in the

unforgiving contradictory assumption

that I could

contain the ocean

without ever knowing

not that I could just

contain the ocean

had I ever known it.