Eigengrau
Musings on color, perception, and the ocean’s gaze.
Ivory
glistening incisors
emerge,
a fleshy pink parting
of marveling enamel
upon salty tides
swishing/
/smashing/
swirling;
under its master’s wishes
harboring uncharted depths
what does the ocean wish for?
do its dark crevices dream of light?
Isn’t black made by light?
perhaps it’ll greet ivory
in shadowed currents
as fondly
this picture is glorious, as well as this poem accompanying it. Great juxtaposition.