Stephe Watson Poet Free verse

Us Sponges, We Are Not Our Bodies

Does the Sea
Suffuse...
Does the Sea
Perfuse...

the sponge?


Slipping, sidling
in:
the Great Outbreath
of the far forgot shore;
so small now as to be 
Unimaginable,
upwells in swells the 
Entirety of this sea -
and heaves these easy seas
from shore to shore
as
sure as the moon’s dim
light is gasped over 
when its wax is over -
when full; when only moonlight
lights the matte blacknight.

Does the Sea,
enter, entirely,
the sponge
and, in doing
so
forget itself?
Does the Sea,
in its Perfusion
forget itself?
Does the Sea believe itself to be
a sponge?
Or does the see,
take up a demonym?
Or does the Sea remain the Sea
no matter no matter
no matter how 
fully
it inhabits, it saturates, it permeates
the Sponge?

For that matter,
does the sponge,
in being infilled wholly by
the Sea, believe itself to be
The Sea?

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Sand Blown January 27, 2019 at 2:29 PM nice write...we are but windows on the sea Stephe Watson January 27, 2019 at 4:30 PM Oh, thank you. Windows are, indeed, for sea-ing. :)