I have shown myself to you
only as drift and you have presumed
to deduce me from this.

I routinely descend
into abysmal depths,
am far from land, secretive.

But what do you know of my breach,
how the lightless world
bursts off me –

how I can feed on this
for thousands of miles,
the routine weight of air crushing

the sea’s surface suddenly
gone, suddenly
an opening into which I pour.

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