Varahi, 2

​I am heading toward the sea.
I’ve loitered too much on land
lugging my bones around, following
measly stars that lead only inward.
I know they say it is necessary,
thyself: be known 
shadows: stand still, be counted
soul: inhabit this shining vocation
shirt: wear a pledge pin, stick it in deep.
insist. 
but I want to disappear.
no cloud keeps its shape.
when the rain fell it didn’t have plans
to go anywhere. just splattered
just went down, just spread out;
all the holes with their tiny tongues
trying to lick it up. 
it made me cry to think: what if this
is for me, too? to be inhaled by
the earth, to be indistinguishable.
I always imagined I’d amount 
to something. I ate dirt, stones.
I used bricks, cinderblocks. 
I carved me into things. 
then, the sea. all the blue wheels,
no mercy, lighthouses
strobing the void, salt-rotted 
graves of lost mariners pointing 
outward, away from land. 
I had a vision then, of longing 
how it never ends. 
I never knew how filthy 
I was, lover, how heavy until you 
drove me into the sea with both
tusks and took this flimsy name 
out of my clutching fingers.
​