Sometimes there are
so many things inside,
and I haven't the smallest clue
of how to find them and let them out.
I cannot grasp
how to contain an entire ocean in a bottle,
or how to pour it out once I’ve captured it.
I’m filled with oceans that I want to set free,
in the form of ink,
but they gush out, soaking the paper,
smearing the letters,
or they refuse to flow.
No, I haven’t the smallest clue,
but as much as that frightens me,
maybe I'll find an artwork
among swirls of seawater ink.