if day has to become night

When I die

When I die:
with a skin papyrus paper
and shakenbreath trembling
eyes like ocean fog
When I die I
doubt I’ll swim forever
in the highest clouds
propped up with an alabaster spyglass
and peeping grin of the curious
When I die I think
I’ll mix with the sea as ash
and get swallowed by a tiny silver fish to
ply the ocean’s undercurrent
my soul a small passenger
in one creature’s belly or
And once I’ve learned all there is
about coral and tides and
the words to each whale’s song
perhaps then I’ll flop back onto the sand and
stretch my new muscles and
wave again to the sun.