I feel excavated

Like a buoyant log atop a sea stampede,
shafted from the earth
and cursed by the sun to bleach.

What is left but to hanker
for honey-like gas, a gargle of jammy breath,
a sweetness only a lung could savor.

Pious to think if only I opened wide enough
Let my jaw hinge and drag undone in attempt
to grip one last sip,
allow my tongue to finally sprawl out in cursive
and draw in waves of coral and brine
sent bellowing from the ocean bottom,
that I would return
rooted to land,
carried to shore by hooves of algae-
Even if that means eventually I’ll end up as ember
ash peppered in the gusts of summer
Reshaped by exposure as amber
sap sunken
Beneath my steadyheld gut.

Yet still, I play out doomsday composition,
hoarding and choking on siren song,
shoving fermented bowels beneath chyme soaked reefs.
I swallow whole gulps,
fierce and whipping,
refusing concord and
savoring far more oxygen than my marrow can

I wish I could stomach pride

At least then my swollen chest would reveal meaning.

Instead, I draw in grief with its serrated edges,
carving into my arbor grave,
an endless pit through soft sand under chewed gravel.

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