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
