atlantic

my fingers were marred and tethered to bumblebees
with all their will couldn't hold on to me
and i'm too full of anti-hydrogen and boundaries
and casted bones held together with pieces of tape
painted over like wood and thrown away
and all of my anger couldn't hold them
my eyesight could not commit
to little paintings on the walls
read deep into me when there's really
nothing at all
oceans filling your glass when
it's really nothing at all.