I am no wave thing No Moses basketed, noosed to the hip of an ocean, born to be carried away by the tide thing I'm not a thing that dips and dives and dies under this rubble and salt and sky Not under these ******, and sea lions who charter their unlicensed vessels on my intimate things, with no caution or care they trail and leave their spills there But i'm no wave thing I'm not a thing who whips and crashes at the break of the wind or the pull of the sky, not created that cycle of fall and rise and fall and rise, where the depths and heights you reach donβt even move you Donβt even change you no more or ever How you look like yesterday's tears and damp and fog and still cling to the dry and parched of things How you baptise their bodies and their mouths and get nothing more than yourself back in different form. Cannot be that blind a thing, that pushed to move to nowhere and everywhere at the same time and back thing and blue thing and black to reflect the moods of the sky thing, a neat mess of a thing huddled to look the same as and cling to everything else you were created next to forever thing, void of choice, helpless, yet so full of strength and potential if you could escape thing inanimate and life at the same time thing, a slave of creation thing. Just a wave thing. I will never be just a wave thing.