Our lungs look like branches so
we’ll rustle when we breathe
and grasp at sunlight when we sing
and splinter when we seethe.
I guess water is the steam that
didn’t become dreams,
our ocean what God failed to divine
after the testaments.
(So we will go insane
if we drink too much of the sea).
God chose us from the wrong materials
so we are seasons and we leave.