
gravity propels it. yes, but is it really Blue?
for me to ponder
as i drink heartily from the very hole
our ancestors drew
over the millennia.
later,
i don my chordates coat,
forage, hunt,
bathe, and lay sealed, contented
still undulating
within the warmth of its bowels.
though i know where it comes from
it is not clear where it's been.
i close my eyes.
as i begin to dream
i ask:
from where does your strength emanate?
what made you fierce?
and why?
while i plumb deeper--
dissolving.
gravity propels it. yes, but is it really Blue?
~noxalio~
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