I could whisper a secret into a lost bottle

kiss it, and seal it, and cast it out onto

the bottom of the earth’s deepest ocean

and some weeks later

it would reach your pale-skinned shoreline,

Six thousand impossible miles away

because the sea never sleeps.

The tide is a slave to the sun and the moon,

the waves crack whips, “faster,

Faster, you’re not dead yet!

Deliver these lines to his desired

Destination…”

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