This is the way to lose

By the seams of our nativities

The sea is an inchworm and myopic

The sea is an easy song, too easy, and too complicated for god

And this is how we succeed

Same as before

By a muddled preference for breath

Or the magma of gravity crawling into the bones

Till at a standstill, silence stoops for a hug

And even our dull eyes can tell the difference