Containers

There is no ocean just
Invisible terrain buffered by
Salt, diffused. In theory I could
Develop gills and walk my way
Around the world until these
Connections were made, started
To make some sense of it all.
Everything is spherical, circular
And infinite, but in all directions.
I spin and the sky is still blue
Still suspended while we
Burn borders into our skin under
This glass bubble, container.

Author: Erica V.

Always seriously joking and rambunctiously soft-spoken.

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