for something that never happens?
-William Butler Yeats
Pocket Theories
If I can’t pick up the ocean, how heavy is water?
You tell me to try swallowing a bucketfull.
The weight is in the salt then. You trace a border
around my archipelago of calf birthmarks. I can’t pull
this peached blue tide away from our morass of a dune,
but you tell me to leave it alone, that the harder
I impugn or try to pin down particles, the sooner
and more spastically they zip around to escape the onlooker.
This is the reason I took up arms with God so young.
You shrug; tell me no one is watching me but you
and maybe that seagull, finger grains of sand out from
my bellyhole. I ask, if space keeps expanding too fast,
our bodies and everything will be torn apart,
spread empty, why chart a cosmos we can’t outsmart?
-- Caitlyn Pezza
