Our Bodies (Conversation between Man and Waves)
by Jacob Rose
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White bodies, sliding on blue bodies.
My body watching your body.
You who treat the ocean as I do the land; Why do you feign inanimacy,
and pretend not to know where you are going?
What if you were to grant yourself pattern;
shedding the inconsistency that defines you (aesthetically)
but destroys you (mathematically)? Then what?
Would you somehow come to deny me my buoyancy and
rob yourself of a noun to call your own?
It seems then that we are stuck with each other;
You in your coy chaotic state and me with my critical eye.
Now there is nothing left to do but turn my back and go
inside.
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